Splashing cold water on her face, Mila braced herself against the sink basin, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles encased her puffy, reddened eyes, and her usual rosy complexion had been replaced by a pale, waxy one.

She'd spent the last day in bed, the events that had transpired not even twenty four hours prior, still feeling too surreal to process. She'd been forced to come to terms with the fragility of the relationship she and Josef had shared. A fragility she'd always been subconsciously aware of, though she'd done her best, until now, to push from the forefront of her mind.

It had all happened so fast. Everything had been ripped away in an instant, and she'd been left to pick up the pieces. There were no pieces of her left though ... Unwittingly, she'd given every last piece that was left to Josef. She'd allowed her naivety to sprout a seed of hope within her heart. Hope for a different outcome than the inevitable one that had been staring her plainly in the face all along. Josef would never love her ... not the person she truly was. Their relationship had been built on half-truths and lies. How could she have allowed herself to believe something real could come of it?

She hadn't been able to bring herself to face the Lingards - Harvey specifically. She'd needed time to process, though what good that had done, she didn't know. She'd stopped crying sometime that night, and had managed to fall asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning. She'd have to tell Harvey and Catherine today though. They'd be disappointed ... Harvey would yell ... Catherine would give her a sympathetic smile and say she understood how she felt. She didn't though. Catherine would never understand the utter brokenness she felt ... Brokenness she'd been carrying for far too long ... Brokenness Josef had mended, if only for a moment.

Running a comb through her unkempt hair, she smoothed it down and pinned it back. Giving her reflection one last glance in the mirror, she retreated back down the hall, to her bedroom. Peeling off yesterday's dress, she opened her closet, and pulled out the first thing she saw. She pulled the green fabric over her head, buttoning up the front of the dress and slipping a cream cardigan on over it. Grabbing her purse and coat from the hook beside the front door, she stepped out into the cool, afternoon air. Squinting as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, she began the familiar journey to the Lingard's house.

She hadn't put much thought into what she would say once she arrived on the Lingard's doorstep. Though, she didn't suppose there was much to say. She'd been made ... They would want the specifics, sure, but nothing she could tell them would change the fact that it was over. She'd be on the first ship to London before the week was out.

She had thought about the possible repercussions her being caught might cause the rest of the SIS agents in Holland, but she'd be lying if she said she cared. Truthfully, she didn't care about anything anymore. She'd said she believed in the cause ... In the fight for justice. And maybe a part of her did in the beginning. If she were honest though, she hadn't stayed to complete some noble quest. She hadn't been fighting for the greater good ... She'd been fighting for revenge. She had wanted to take everything from the people who'd taken everything from her.

"Get off of me!" She heard someone yell, ripping her out of her thoughts as she turned the corner onto the Lingard's street. Looking up, her eyes fell on Harvey, who was fighting against two officers trying to restrain him. Raising the butt of his gun, one of the grey uniformed men struck Harvey in the back of the head, his body going limp as they drug him towards the black Mercedes parked in front of the house.

"Please!" She heard Catherine say as she jerked against the officer who held her. "Please, why are you doing this?" She continued to plead, playing her part as the innocent housewife well.

Mila watched in horror as the realization of what was happening sunk in. She'd seen those grey uniforms before ... Gestapo. Ducking behind a neighboring house, she pressed her back against the cold brick, fighting back the sinking feeling in her stomach. She stood as still as a statue, glued to the spot, until she finally saw the black car drive past. Pushing herself off the wall, she all but ran back to her house.

Bursting through the front door, she threw her coat and bag on the floor. Tears stung her eyes as she paced through the kitchen, her mind racing with a million emotions. It was over ... It was all over. She hadn't thought it could get any worse, but with Harvey and Catherine arrested, the last lifeline she had was severed. There would be no ship now ... no way out. She was stuck ... stranded in a foreign land she'd once called home. A foreign land with enemies everywhere she turned. How long would it be before the Lingards gave her up, or before the Gestapo connected the dots on their own? She'd be captured ... Destined for the same fate that befell her father and brother.

Eying the stack of files she'd brought home from the office the previous week, she shoved them off the counter in anger, glass shattering against the hardwood as the flower vase that had sat on the counter toppled to the ground with them. She cried out, a choked sob stifling the scream she'd intended to let out. Crumpling to the ground, she pressed her back against the cabinets, running her hands through her hair as tears glided down her cheeks.

She looked at the mess of paper and glass she'd created on the floor, a small slip of paper catching her eye. Picking it up, she examined it, her eyes tracing the cursive letters that covered the page. It was an invitation to a dinner honoring Heinrich Muller on Monday, February 15th. Tomorrow. Narrowing her eyes at the paper, she grit her teeth in disdain. Crumpling up the invitation, she threw it across the room. Heinrich Muller had taken everything from her, and he was going to pay for it.