While the World Is Still Asleep (The Century Trilogy Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

she straightened the strap on her bag. Inside it, in addition to a few medicine bottles, were a block of chocolate and some peppermint candy for Josephine. She had told her parents that she was going to deliver the medicine to several of their older, disabled customers. And before they could question her as to who and where, she was out the door.
    The two young women strode quickly toward the tram stop and were just able to jump aboard before the tram rolled away.
    “When I think of all the trouble I got into with my father because of Jo, I hardly feel like going on this little jaunt at all,” said Isabelle as they crammed in beside the other passengers on a hard wooden bench. “She got me in serious hot water, and if my parents knew I was visiting her now, it would start all over again.”
    “Then why didn’t you just stay home?” asked Clara. Her mother, too, would rake her over the coals if she knew where she was really going. But a year ago, when she had been lying in the hospital with a broken leg, Josephine had visited her every day. She couldn’t turn her back on her friend now . . .
    A shudder ran down Clara’s spine. Josephine in the Barnim Road Women’s Prison—the very thought made her cringe. That place was full of prostitutes, con artists, and other lowlifes. Josie didn’t belong there, not her best friend for as long as she could remember!
    “Besides,” Clara said, “you’re partly to blame for Josephine’s being in prison in the first place. You were the one who was always filling her head with crazy ideas and all just because you were bored.”
    “That is . . . outrageous,” Isabelle answered indignantly. “ I certainly didn’t make Josephine steal from my father. Just the opposite, in fact. I tried to stop her from going out that night. But all you could think about was your work. It made no difference to you what Jo was up to.”
    Clara looked away, clearly hurt. She’d accused herself of that very thing plenty of times—it was true that she hadn’t tried hard enough to get through to Jo. Isabelle didn’t have to rub it in.
    “And that old neighbor, Frieda, the one Josephine liked so much—she could just as easily have said something to her,” said Isabelle. “Frieda knew about Jo’s obsession. She just chose not to do anything about it.”
    At the next station, they transferred to another tram. They had hardly sat down when Isabelle, keeping her voice low, picked up where she had left off. “Even if we had all used all our powers of persuasion, it wouldn’t have made any difference—she was insatiable and completely immune to reason.”
    “Then why did you ever let it go so far? Opportunity makes the thief—that’s what they say, right?” Clara said bitterly. “Besides, you certainly could have done more to stick up for Jo with your father. If you had, maybe he never would have reported her.”
    Isabelle let out a short, shrill laugh. “How do you know whether—or how much—I stuck up for Jo?! I . . .”
    The girls continued bickering, throwing more recriminations at each other. When they arrived at the Landsberger Allee station—several tram changes and more than half an hour later—the mood between them was as chilly as the east wind.
    “Friedrichshain Park looks so grim in winter,” Isabelle murmured, glancing in the direction of the empty park, where a few stray dogs were the only sign of life. There was an unusual glimmer of trepidation in her eyes.
    The girls began walking through the early winter wasteland toward the forbidding building with its many small windows. The prison exuded an aura of menace. Clara’s steps grew heavier.
    The man inside the small gatehouse looked up from his newspaper. His eyes narrowed to slits, and he looked the two young women up and down.
    “What do you want?” A reek of decay escaped through the small window with each word. The man’s mouth contained rotten black stumps where his teeth should have been.
    The sight