Last Words: A Diary of Survival Read online

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  EPILOGUE

  Last Words

  Shari J. Ryan

  Copyright © 2017 by Shari J. Ryan

  First Edition

  * * *

  Shari J. Ryan

  P.O. BOX 365

  Northbridge, MA 01534

  [email protected]

  www.sharijryan.com

  * * *

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  * * *

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  * * *

  ISBN-13:978-1976383434

  ISBN-10:1976383439

  LCCN: 2017952187

  * * *

  Editor: Lisa Brown, Looking Glass Revisions

  Cover and Interior Formatting: MadHat Books

  Contents

  Newsletter

  Disclaimer

  Acknowledgments

  PROLOGUE

  1. CHAPTER ONE

  2. CHAPTER TWO

  3. CHAPTER THREE

  4. CHAPTER FOUR

  5. CHAPTER FIVE

  6. CHAPTER SIX

  7. CHAPTER SEVEN

  8. CHAPTER EIGHT

  9. CHAPTER NINE

  10. CHAPTER TEN

  11. CHAPTER ELEVEN

  12. CHAPTER TWELVE

  13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  14. CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  18. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  19. CHAPTER NINETEEN

  20. CHAPTER TWENTY

  21. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  22. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  23. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  24. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  EPILOGUE

  AFTERWORD

  About the Author

  Also by Shari J. Ryan

  Disclaimer

  This fictitious novel is incredibly graphic, made up of many non-fictitious details of the Holocaust. If you are sensitive to violence, this may not be the book for you.

  I am a descendant of two Holocaust survivors, from whom I have had the privilege of learning facts of my history and heritage. In addition, hours of research have been conducted to keep historical facts accurately laced in with this story that brings forbidden love to another level.

  I have wanted to write this book for many years, but it has been challenging to relive a life experience my grandmother and great-grandmother survived, while knowing the rest of my family did not make it.

  With the taboo nature of this story, please know I do not condone or support the typical enemy’s behavior portrayed in my story. On the contrary, I have lived in fear of hatred, hiding my religion and beliefs for many years. Therefore, I hope this story is as enlightening to you as it has been for me.

  Acknowledgments

  This book has given me peace, understanding, and gratefulness.

  It was a journey I’m going to miss greatly, but I’m so glad I went through this story and came out on the other side.

  Mom, you spent countless hours weaving through every one of my words, hashing out plot ideas, and editing my raw words to add more detail and emotion into the story. I loved working with you on this, and it means so much to me that you helped me through this difficult book. Thank you for always being by my side. I love you!

  Lisa, thank you so much for putting so much passion into the edits. The hours of research and polish you have added to my story is above and beyond anything I could ask for.

  My beta readers—I love your excitement to dig in and help me, by offering your honest feedback when the words are fresh and raw. Knowing I can trust you means more than I could ever explain. The time you selflessly offer me is something I’m truly appreciative of: Annelle, Kelly, Cindy, Sue, Barb M., Crystal, Heather, Julie, Samantha, Michele, Erin D., Jocelyn, Renee, Barb S., Tanya, Belinda, Alissa, Shannon, Coleen, Shelly, Val, Tracey, Rebecca, April, Dee, Erin K., Lin, and TK Leigh.

  Julie, a special thank you for helping me out when I needed it the most. You have gone above and beyond; proofreading the last round and offering your support throughout this entire journey is something I can never thank you enough for. I’m so grateful for our friendship!

  Linda, thank you for keeping me sane, organized, and on track. You regularly offer me a shoulder to lean on, and it means the world to me. I don’t know what I would do without you!

  Bloggers, Readers, and Author Friends—I love you all so much. Being in this community has given me a different outlook on life, and I can’t think of a better industry to be a part of than this one with all of you. Thank you for your support!

  My friends—the ones who constantly listen to me yap about my invisible friends. Your support is everything to me. Gia and Annelle, I love you like sisters. <3

  Lori—the best sister in the universe—thank you for being my first reader and going chapter to chapter in excitement along with me as I write. Love you!

  My family—Mom, Dad, Mark, and Ev—thank you for having faith in me to give this story justice. I love you all.

  Bryce and Brayden—my sweet boys—I hope you always remember your family roots and that you have warrior blood running through your veins. You two can accomplish anything you put your mind to, and you make me proud every single day.

  Josh—my other half—thank you for continuing to support my books on a daily basis, and for always taking an interest in what my heart is passionate about. Having your encouragement is everything to me.

  Praise for Shari J. Ryan

  Last Words by Shari Ryan is a gripping, emotional, spell-binding journey of bravery, redemption, and love. Once I picked up this book, I could not put it down, completely captivated by the story. I felt every emotion the characters went through, one minute my heart caught in my throat, the next overwhelmed with the love these characters shared. I urge everyone to read this book. Allow the story to consume you as it consumed me, and remember the lesson that has sadly been forgotten lately… Love is stronger than hate.

  USA Today Bestselling Author T.K. Leigh

  There is absolutely no amount of amazing words I could possibly use, in any language, to describe Shari Ryan's new release Last Words and still do this deeply moving, thought provoking love story justice.

  Last Words moved me to the brink of tears, cultivated fear and burned deep in my heart with the out pouring of love it provoked.

  Ryan's story was an unexpected one in Nazi German times. Two souls f
inding love in the most tragic of places. Ryan poured every stitch of her heritage into this emotional novel. By doing so, she has written her best novel to date.

  Last Words is one of those books you must absolutely read for yourself to feel the strength and emotion crafted by Ryan. Last Words is special, a different story of love demanding to readers to be read. Don't miss out on this opportunity to read something that'll change your perception of true love.

  Emily Goodman, Southern Vixens Book Obsessions

  There are no words to correctly portray how this book has made me feel. This is honestly one of the most beautifully written, captivating, and heart-felt books I have ever read! I am a huge fan of Shari's - but I'm now wishing I could rate this book higher than 5 stars, because it is some of the best writing she has ever done! I'm not going to lie - I cried like a baby, quite a few times - but I just could not put this book down...I needed to know how it was going to end, but once I got there - I was so sad to say goodbye to the characters. Last Words takes us back and forth from the present to the past, a terrible time in history, during WWII, in the Holocaust. It was very hard to read about this time of history, but the love captured within the words throughout the past and present, helps tie this story together beautifully. 10 stars, an absolute MUST READ!

  Heather, Early Reader

  To the survivors who made it through, and the souls who weren’t given a chance, your legacy lives on through all who continue to fight for peace, freedom, and love.

  PROLOGUE

  AMELIA

  Since 1945, my story has remained hidden deep within the corners of my mind and blacked out as if with permanent marker, in hopes that no one else would ever know. I've been holding on to these silent memories for such a long time, but I'm becoming weak. I've always known that the truth might someday be stronger than my will to be silent, but I can't imagine what my secrets would do to those I love.

  This may be cliché, but I'm going to start my story with a once upon a time...except my life hasn't been a fairytale—far from it. In fact, for a long time, I believed a happy ending meant death.

  During my early years as a child, I had a perfect life. The sun shone golden rays across Bohemia’s breathtaking sky and bore its warmth down on the silky, green-grass-covered soil. I lived in color—rich with vivid hues, and I danced through the mustard fields, twirling my dress as my hair blew like weeping willows in the breeze. My heart was protected, my life blessed with knowledge, and I was surrounded by love. There was a lightness in my mind and a feeling of completeness in my soul that made each day feel like a gift from above.

  Then, a day came when the sun was taken away. The sky became dark with heavy clouds, and my world turned gray. Raindrops that once fell from the sky bled into the tears that burned down my cheeks.

  I thought darkness was all I had left after losing everything I'd ever known and loved, but through a cloud of dust and despair, I found a glimmer of hope—a smile amongst the sunken cheeks and rotting corpses.

  He should never have smiled at me, and I shouldn't have acknowledged him when he did, but once it started, there was no turning back. I never considered the possibility of how it would end until I felt the heartbreak of loneliness again. His smile was gone, the warm touches we shared through my cold shivers would never heat my body again, and the worst part was that all hope was lost.

  It was all for nothing. It would have been easier to have never felt that kind of love because once I knew how good it could feel, I didn’t think I’d ever feel that way again.

  As the world caved in on itself, I allowed the pain and misery to pour from my eyes one last time before making a silent vow to never give another ounce of power to those who wanted to dominate the weak.

  I traveled through the phases of bitter denial, revenge, hate, sorrow—and finally, the emptiness that would be a part of me forever.

  When the sun returned and the grass grew back, those who had survived slowly allowed their wounds to heal, but there was a numbness inside all of us—protection from feeling the pain of the memories that would last a lifetime.

  To forget and move on as if it never happened was the only way to survive. I tried to convince myself that I hadn't lived through the most demoralizing and destructive five years this world has ever seen.

  I moved to America, leaving the enemy behind. I lived on, shielding myself from the memories. I lived up to society's moral standards and expectations by getting married and having children. I cooked, cleaned, and supported those I love. Then, over time, my past became a part of the earth like the bones and ashes in that far away land.

  There is one exception, though, and it's the part of me I have only pretended to forget—my secret. In fact, some would consider what I did to be as wrong, and equally horrendous, as what the heartless ones did to my whole race.

  In my heart, I will never consider that it was wrong, and I will stand by my actions and beliefs because the heart wants what the heart wants. Sometimes, even the toughest warriors who survive the odds and somehow escape the shadows of death, can still fall helpless and weak at the mercy of love.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Emma

  Great, I'm going to be late again. I glance over at the clock on my car radio, feeling anxiety set in as I wait for my phone to ring. I don't understand how I can be expected to predict the exact moment I will arrive somewhere. Mom thinks that because I work for myself, I make my own hours, but that’s not the case. I have a job and deadlines to meet, but Mom clocks in and out of her beloved receptionist position at the town hall, so her lunch hour is the same every day. Even though mine doesn't always match up, I try my hardest to be punctual, but I can't foresee my daily schedule and traffic.

  I fly into the parking lot of Panera and see Mom standing in front of the entrance, her hip cocked to one side, an annoyed grimace covering her face, and her fingers frantically searching for buttons on her phone.

  Not-so-shockingly, my phone rings five-seconds later, just as I put the Jeep into park. If she weren't busy calling me, she would see that I pulled into the parking lot a minute ago.

  I decide to ignore the call as I walk toward her, watching her talking to herself. I'm assuming my voicemail is picking up right about now, and as soon I step foot onto the curb, five feet from where she's standing, she'll begin her, “Emma, where are you?” message. “You're two minutes late, and I'm worried something may have happened. Please call me as soon as you get this.”

  “I'm right here, Mom,” I tell her, smiling in hopes of erasing the angry look on her face.

  “Oh,” she says. “I was looking for you. You know lunch is at one.”

  “I was working with a client, Mom, and I'm only two minutes late,” I remind her. I give her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before taking the few steps over to the door.

  “I'm sorry, I'm just having a bad day,” she says.

  My heart sinks for a moment, going through the list of things that could be wrong for her to have the despondent expression I see tugging at her face. “What happened?”

  “Nothing actually happened,” she begins.

  “Is Grams okay?” I ask. Ever since Grandpa passed away ten years ago, we have been taking turns checking up on her since she refuses to be “taken” from her house and “placed” in an assisted-living environment, or a morgue as she calls it.

  “Yes, she is fine but just angry today, I guess.”

  “Why?”

  Mom places her hand over her eyes and shakes her head. “I don't know, Emma. She's getting those palpitations in her chest again, and she's sure she's going to die today.” Mom tends to be overdramatic at times, but Grams doesn't typically throw around the topic of death, so I can see why she is concerned.

  “I'll go check on her after lunch, and I'll let you know when I find out she’s okay. That will put your mind at ease.”

  Acting as if I didn't say a word, Mom opens the door to Panera and walks inside. I totally understand that she can't handle the idea of Gra
ms not being around, and I feel the same, but she's making herself sick with worry every day.

  Mom silently takes her place at the back of the line, squinting her eyes at the menu before pulling her glasses out of her purse. “You always order the grilled chicken sandwich. Are you getting something new today?” I ask her.

  “No, I'm just looking to see if they've added anything new to the menu.”

  “I don't think they have since last week,” I tell her, trying to save her the time of scrutinizing each column. She removes her glasses, then slips them back into her bag and looks around at the few people waiting in line to order. “Emma,” she whispers, “do you see him over there?” She's pointing toward the front of the line at a man working the register. Therefore, he must be single and available…unlike me, who is in a relationship. She'd like to pretend otherwise, however.

  “No,” I tell her. “Don't.”

  “He's cute, though,” she says with a grin. I'm glad she's feeling better now, but it is at my expense.

  “Please, stop it, Mom,” I mutter without hiding my aggravation.

  “I want grandchildren,” she responds in a singsong voice.