There was a sense of confusion currently overwhelming Sura. The woman sitting at her table was German, she loved the Fatherland, she represented the chaos that was sweeping the young girl's home and here she was being very amiable, when all Sura wanted to do was hate her. The fact that she held a noble position didn't help matters much, on top of the way she sounded conflicted about the situation herself. 

Sura sighed, it was useless trying to make sense of the entire situation. She would only get a headache, giving her reason to stop overanalyzing it. "That is the Germans' problem," she said with exasperation. "None of you have the power to cleanse anything. God is the only one with the power to decide who lives and who dies. I don't know why you Germans think you have that power." 

She tried to be patient, but every word she heard from the Germans was a crock and it angered her. "If you believe any of this," she gestured around her, "is right, then you are misled. There is nothing cleansing about any of it. It's murder!" She couldn't help but get angry. She missed her father, she missed her sister. Every night she slept alone in a cot in the back of the café, wondering, hoping, that her family and friends were alright. She dreamt every night of fighting back and giving the Germans a taste of their own medicine. 

She laughed when the woman assumed she was Gestapo. "Oh darling, you of all people know the Gestapo better than anyone," she said still laughing, "and after what you just told me, do you think you'd still be alive? I just want to show you how this inhuman war looks from my perspective, that and no more. You may leave if you wish, but perhaps seeing it from my eyes will help that feeling of doubt in your heart." She looked into her eyes, hoping that she could see the sadness in them.