She bent down and grabbed it. It was lighter than she remembered. With slightly shaking hands, she opened it and looked down at the small corpse, which stared back with empty, lifeless eyes. Reflexively she turned her face away. She still didn't like looking dead babies in the eyes, but she quickly got control of herself and fixed her gaze on the baby’s chest instead. So quiet and calm it was, not a sound came from its small, pale lips. Dagmar smiled blissfully as she lifted the infant to her. She held it close to her body as she moved back to the living room. With confident steps she approached the roaring stove again. She knelt down once more and opened the middle shutter. Laboriously and with some difficulty she managed to push the lifeless body through the hole and was finally able to close the door again. Dagmar got up and stood completely still in front of the stove. Almost devoutly, she held out her hands and accepted the warmth that spread from the hot metal to her cold fingers. Her eyes were still fixed on the flames she could see through the shutter, and a small smile curled her lips. That's how easy it was. The stove was a good servant in her fight for survival, in the fight to erase all traces.

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