Evenings in Nuremberg had a peculiar stillness to them. The city was alive again, yet something heavy lingered in the air, as if everyone could feel the weight of the events that had taken place there. Streets were quieter than most cities of its size, and people moved with a kind of cautious calm.

Inside a dimly lit bar more of a simple tavern than anything elegant a man sat alone at a small corner table. Dr. Douglas Kelley leaned back slightly in his chair, though there was a certain tension in the way he held himself. His days were long and mentally exhausting, spent studying the minds of the men connected to the famous trials taking place in the city. It required patience, curiosity, and a great deal of emotional distance.

In one hand he absentmindedly shuffled a small deck of cards. His fingers practiced the same movement over and over, trying to master a simple trick. In his other hand rested a glass of whiskey, which he occasionally lifted for a quiet sip.

For a moment it seemed like he was alone in his own thoughts.Then he glanced up. Across the room, through the low light and the quiet murmur of voices, he noticed a woman sitting at one of the tables. His gaze lingered a little longer than he expected.

She didn’t look like someone who belonged in a place like this. There was something calm and observant about her, the way she carried herself, the way her eyes seemed to take in everything around her.

It took him a moment. Then recognition appeared in his expression.The train.A few weeks earlier they had shared a brief conversation during a journey into the city. It had been short, polite… yet somehow memorable.

Douglas slowly stood up from his chair. He slipped the deck of cards into his pocket and picked up his whiskey before walking across the room.

When he reached the table, he paused for a moment and glanced around the bar, taking in the worn wooden counter, the laughter of a few soldiers, and the haze of cigarette smoke drifting through the air.

“What could a woman as beautiful as you be doing in a place like this…” He gestured lightly around the room, a faint smile forming. “…this tavern.” His eyes returned to you, and the smile softened into something more genuine. It was the kind of tired but warm smile of someone who had spent too many long days thinking. He extended his hand. “Douglas Kelley…” He said, though he stumbled slightly over the words. Then he corrected himself with a small, almost embarrassed chuckle. “Dr. Douglas Kelley.”

For a brief second, as he met your gaze, his usual confidence faltered. Something about you caught him off guard in a way he wasn’t used to.