We were finally going to find him. Today's the day. It had been a couple of days and although my foot still had a slight pain in it as I walked, it couldn't stop me from walking any longer. But that wasn't the only thing stopping me. I had no idea where to go. Well, that was a lie. I had one idea. Freija was going to come with me, to help me find my way. I was so grateful to her, but I had told her that once I reached the street, she could go back home. She predicted it would be mid afternoon by the time we got there since it was already 1pm, and I didn't want her walking back in the dark or having to stay over at a strangers house. I felt bad that she had to walk home herself, but her grandmother assured me that she would be fine, so I trusted them both.

We said goodbye to her grandmother and we walked out the door, shutting it behind her, she grabbed my hand and began pulling me along as she skipped down the street. I smiled, remembering the time I had spent with Lukas and his sister. I would see him soon. Very soon.

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Finally we were standing in front of the door. The door on a corridor of 5 small apartments in an old building of 5 floors. This was where some of Lukas' family lived. And so, the only idea that I had. If he wasn't here, then I had lost him because he could be anywhere in West Berlin now. Literally anywhere. Or maybe not even in Berlin or Germany now. But I was getting ahead of myself. The fact was; this was my last shot.

I raised my hand to the door, tapping it gently with my knuckles, nerves suddenly shooting up from my stomach to my mouth as if I were about to puke. Footsteps echoed down the hallway towards the door. My head began to be dizzy and I felt light headed. I heard a set of keys jangling and hitting each other. What if he didn't want to see me? What if he screamed as soon as he opened the door and pushed me away? The door began to open. Or maybe he had missed me so much, he would pull me into his arms. He would hug me so tightly all my nervous and scared thoughts would be pushed out and then he would kiss my neck and whisper in my ear and glide his lips along my lips-

"Who's there?" I glanced down to the young boy standing next to the door, staring straight ahead with a blank expression on his face. He was about half the height and probably half the age of Lukas too, but something in the boy reminded me of him. It wasn't his face, still full of childhood chubbiness, or his light brown curls that hung just above his shoulders, or his pure blue eyes which were almost white, which had an emptiness I had never seen before in them. I'm not sure what it was, but there was something Lukas-ish.

"Urm, I'm a friend of Lukas'. Is he here?" I questioned, watching as the boy's eyebrow furrowed, confusing twisting his face.

"Lukas' friend..." He murmured the words, hoping that repeating them and saying them himself would clear the situation in his head. But before he could figure out what he was puzzled by, a tall man approached the door, coming up behind the young boy, placing his hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Hey Benny, why don't you go and play with your sister? I've got this." His deep voice had a tone of calmness and sweetness I hadn't heard in anyone else but Lukas. I was at the right house. He watched the boy nod and then follow his hands along the walls into a next to the door, before turning to me, a concerned expression on his face.

"You are Lukas' friend?" He asked, looking me up and down.

"Yes, is he in?"

"I'm sorry, what is your name again?" He scrutinised me.

"Kirsten." I said faintly, almost an unheard whisper.

"I don't know that name." He said quickly and bluntly.

"I knew him from..." I stepped closer, glancing around before lowing my voice. "The other side. You know?" And to that, he straightened up, narrowing his eyes slightly, in shock? In anger? I couldn't tell.

"Lukas isn't here, but you better come in for a few minutes." He stepped to the side, motioning his arm to the kitchen opposite the front door. I nodded, bowed my head and walked in, following his reach into the small old kitchen. On one side was an oven, fridge, sink, a range of cupboards and a couple of surfaces for preparing food. On the other side was a rectangular wooden table with four wooden chairs around it, placemats sitting in front of each chair. "Take a seat." He said, pointing to one of them as he sat down at the head of the table, or what I now assumed was the head. He rested his arms up to his elbows on the table, putting his hands together and entwining his fingers with his own. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Patrick, Lukas' uncle. That young boy was his cousin." He took a deep sigh, looking down to the triangle he had made with his arms.

"Is something the matter, sir?" I asked hesitantly.

"Call me Patrick, please."

"Sorry, is something wrong, Patrick? I mean you said Lukas isn't here. Was he here?" I asked question after question. I needed to shut up but I had so many unanswered questions which I needed to ask. I needed to find answers for once.

"Yes, he was here. But something happened." He paused, clenching his fists and jaw simultaneously as if something was causing him great pain.

"What happened?" I could feel my fear radiating off of me. I bet everyone in Germany could sense it right now.

He looked up from his hands, looking me in the eyes, a deep sorrow lining his irises. "He's in prison Kirsten."