You were sitting next to Douglas in the courtroom. You knew him well from working together during the Nuremberg Trials, and though you had been more than just colleagues, he never showed it publicly, especially when others were around. Now, sitting beside him, there was a quiet, unspoken understanding between you, a familiarity that only years of shared experience could create.
The trial presented the horrific actions of the Nazi leaders. Everyone in the room watched the projection in shock, disgust, and pity. Faces reflected the struggle to process what was being shown. Some of the images made stomachs turn and provoked nearly uncontrollable nausea. The air was heavy, thick with tension, as everyone tried to shield themselves from the grim reality unfolding before them. Douglas looked at you then, his expression full of concern. He slowly reached for your hand, as if to offer some silent comfort, but hesitated when he saw you rise and leave the room. For a moment, there was a flash of uncertainty on his face, but he didnât speak, only followed your movement with his eyes.
He almost immediately went after you. When he reached the corridor, he saw you heading into the restroom, covering your mouth to hold back the nausea. He couldnât just barge in after you, so he scanned the hallwayâcompletely empty, silent, and still. Taking a deep breath, he finally entered the restroom quietly behind you, careful not to interrupt, yet determined to be there so you wouldnât be alone.