Jo was frozen, unable to do anything but watch in helpless horror as the men handcuffed Dieter and led him away. She was too shocked even to cry out. She felt someone touch her arm and looked into the eyes of Dieter's father, Paul.

"Come on, dear; I'll drive you home," he said.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Her feet were heavy as she followed him to his car. As they rode along, the passing scenery looked much the same as it had before, but her heart was filled with a new sorrow.

"What do you think they'll do to him?" she asked.

"Most likely, they just want to ask him some questions," said Paul. "He'll probably be released soon."

Jo rubbed her arms. Suddenly, she felt chilly. "Where do you suppose they took him?"

"There are several possibilities."

"I'm so afraid I'll never see him again!"

Paul placed a comforting hand on her arm. "We must try to remain positive, dear. The situation is far from hopeless."

As the neighborhood which had become so familiar to her came into view once again, Jo felt as if her stomach were tied in knots. The optimism she'd felt this morning had completely vanished. She now felt that all she had to look forward to was more drab, dismal work at the hospital, more heartbreaking scenarios such as the one involving Ludwig.

"Please let me know as soon as you find out something!" she said, after thanking Paul for the ride.

"Of course I will, dear."

Mrs. Weber was waiting for her at the door. As Jo embraced her, the tears finally came.

"Dieter's been arrested!" she sobbed.

"While performing the wedding?"

"No, but right afterwards. We were dancing when some men in long black coats came and took him away."

"The Gestapo." Mrs. Weber's face was set in anger.

"Dieter's father thinks they just want to question him, and they won't hold him long."

Mrs. Weber didn't say anything.

Julia Baumgartner called several days later.

"Dieter is being held at the Plotzensee Prison," she told Jo. "He says he is being treated well, and the prison is only about ten minutes away from our home, so when he is able to receive visitors, it will be no problem for us to get there."

"When will that be?"

Julia sighed. "The Lord only knows. Why don't you come and stay with us for awhile, Martina? Paul and I love you as a daughter. We can plan the wedding, and it can take place as soon as our son is free."

"But what about my work as a nurse?"

"Do you enjoy that?"

Jo began to cry. "I hate it! So much pain and sorrow and grief - sometimes I feel like I just can't stand it anymore!"

"If you are willing, Paul would like for you to work as his secretary," said Julia. "He could use help in keeping his patient's files organized, and with other clerical duties."

"I'd like that!" said Jo.

The next day, she packed up her belongings, said goodbye to Mrs. Weber and Renate once again, and took the train to Charlottenburg. Paul and Julia met her at the station and drove her to their home.

Once inside the huge house, Jo wandered from room to room, exploring their contents, until she came to the room which was obviously Dieter's. It contained folders and notebooks with his name on them. Jo was sorely tempted to read his writings but resisted the temptation. She did look through his library, and was so captivated by its contents that she spent hours looking through his huge collection of books.


Six months passed. Jo's days were filled with typing up notes on psychiatric patients, answering the telephone, and writing letters to Dieter. Occasionally, she took the train to spend the weekend with Mrs. Weber and Renate, returning on Sunday evening.

In November, Dieter was finally allowed to have visitors. As Jo walked in through the huge blue doors, she couldn't help but wonder what her fiance would look like after six months in prison. Would he be thin and gaunt, like pictures of prisoners she'd seen online in her old life?

To her surprise and relief, Dieter looked healthy and even cheerful. His face lit up as he gave her a bear hug, and she held onto him as if she never wanted to let go.

When they parted at last, he cupped her chin in his hand and gazed into her eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I am well, thank you. The Lord has supplied all my needs. The more important question is, how have you been, little one?"

"I've been all right, except for missing you more than words can say. Your father keeps me busy with typing and filing, and your mother and I have become very close. We both care for you so much, and we've bonded over that."

He smiled. "I knew that would be the case."

"I love spending time in your room. You have so many interesting books! I hope you don't mind my reading them."

"Absolutely not! I'm glad they are there for your enjoyment. Have you looked at my writings as well?"

She felt herself flush as she looked down. "No. I was tempted to, but that would be an invasion of privacy, wouldn't it?"

"Not at all, dearest Martina. Much of that was written for your sake, in hopes that it would encourage you. I want to share my whole life with you, and that includes my writings."

Tears came to her eyes. "I love you, Dieter."

"And I love you, Martina. Just be patient for a little while longer, and we'll be together for the rest of our lives."

The visit ended far too soon. As she rode back home with Paul and Julia, Jo wondered how long she'd have to wait for another visit with the man she loved.

When she reached the Baumgartner home, she went to Dieter's room right away. She got out his writings, and her eyes eagerly devoured page after page. One section in particular impressed her.

"Shall we sin to our heart's content, trusting in the blood of Jesus to cover all? This would be a terrible choice, in that it would cheapen the value of God's sacrifice. He gave His most precious gift, the life of His Son, to provide a way for us to be saved. How can we fail to appreciate that?"