Rising Sun, Falling Shadow Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Take a breath, Kleiner.”
    Nothing.
    â€œPlease, Schatzi,” Berta cooed. “Breathe for your auntie.”
    Drops of perspiration ran down Berta’s brow as she continued to rub, murmuring gentle words of encouragement.
    â€œFranz!” Sunny called. “We have an arterial bleed!”
    Franz spun and saw that Sunny had plunged her hand wrist-deep through Esther’s incision. Bright red blood was welling up around Sunny’s arm and running down the sides of Esther’s abdomen.
    â€œDamn it to hell,” Franz muttered, realizing that one of the arteries that fed the placenta must have ruptured spontaneously once the pressure of the fetus’s head against it had been released. He grabbed for the biggest clamp on the tray and swung back toward Esther. “Let go, Sunny.”
    She hesitated. “You won’t be able to see anything through all the blood.”
    â€œThen I will do it blindly.”
    Sunny pulled her hand free. Almost immediately, the blood began cascading over the edges of the surgical wound like the overflow from a backed-up sink.
    â€œDr. Adler.” Liese spoke in a hush from where she stood at the head of the operating table, her fingers against Esther’s neck. “The pulse is very weak.”
    Franz thrust his hand back inside the wound, blood engulfing his glove and warming his hand. He felt around until his fingers found the left uterine ligament, and the artery and vein below it. He firmly clamped them off. He shot his hand over to the other side of the womb and explored until his fingers gripped the structures on the right side. Sunny handed him a second clamp, which he fastened onto the blood vessels. He hesitated before slowly withdrawing his hand.
    Sunny wadded sponges into the wound. The blood soaked through them on contact. She prepared to stuff more inside, but Franz waved her off. “Wait, Sunny.”
    They both stared at the incision. No fresh blood appeared.
    â€œThe pulse, Liese?” Franz addressed the anaesthetist.
    â€œThere is little change, Dr. Adler.” Liese paused. “Perhaps a smidgeon stronger.”
    Franz pointed to the clamps protruding from Esther’s abdomen. “Even if she survives, I have to remove her uterus now. Ach, there will be no more children.”
    â€œWhat choice was there?”
    He dropped his chin to his chest, defeated. “I promised her.”
    Sunny’s gaze shifted to Berta. Her eyes lit up. “Franz, look!”
    He turned to see Berta cradling the baby in her arms and singing softly. For a moment, Franz wondered if the song was a prayer of mourning that he didn’t recognize, but her words were in Yiddish and the tune was that of a lullaby. Then Franz heard what sounded like mewing. And then he saw something move. It was the baby’s hand.
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Chapter 5
February 23, 1943
    Sunny peeked through the curtains that separated Esther’s bed from the others on the ward. She watched with affection tinged with envy as Esther eased little Jakob’s head up to her breast. The infant rooted around for a moment or two before his mouth latched on to the nipple.
    Sunny had not expected either mother or child to survive the traumatic birth. And yet, less than a week later, both were thriving. Esther’s skin was still pale, almost translucent, but she had recovered as quickly and resiliently as her son had.
    Esther smiled bashfully. “He seems to be finally grasping the concept.”
    â€œI would say so,” Sunny said as she watched the baby suckle with gusto. “How are you, Essie?”
    â€œTired. Lost. Useless.” She sighed contentedly. “And still so very grateful for the nes—the miracle—of this little one’s survival.” She shook her head. “Sunny, if not for you and Franz . . .”
    Sunny raised her hands in mock denial. “It had far more to do with your stubbornness. Both of you. Your insistence on