Pfeffer was given the pseudonym Albert Dussel in Anne's diary, and remains known as such in many editions and adaptations of the publication. After completing his education, Fritz trained as a dentist and jaw surgeon, obtained a license to practice in and opened a surgery the following year in Berlin. The marriage produced a son, Werner Peter Pfeffer 3 April — 14 Februarythen the couple divorced in
See the end of the chapter for notes.
Chapter Text Simpler The flutter and murmurs churned in the back of his mind as he swayed. Below, years away, was a dark pit swirling with green coils of fog. The contrast lazed around sharp spikes that shimmered like deep galaxies full of stars glittering under a haze of light, with no feasible origin.
As if the shadows had peeled back from his eyes to reveal what he had no desire to witness.
A truth so solid and cold, as only life could deliver in its most critical and indiscriminate moment. Pain burned through his arm, embers igniting in each nerve as they were severed one by one.
Arthur groaned in his daze and gripped his wrist, or tried to. And he could scarcely hear the echoes that clattered off the walls of the cavern.
Arthur remembered thinking, Shit. It hurts so much. He was there a second ago, doing something. There was a blank spot, and then the pain.
Lewis said something to him and then— No. He was laughing hysterically and sobbing, the sensation so awful to his mind he began shrieking until his throat felt parched and needles punctured his lungs.
It was replaced by an emptiness and a sense of falling. The three of them sat in silence for the drive, Arthur vouching to drive first and get them away from the area; Vivi sat curled up against the passenger door staring out the window as the gnarled trees flashed by, an occasional bird would flash by in the early dawn.
Mystery had selected to hop into the open back of the van and lay curled up, presumably just under the passenger seat. The orange sun seemed to rise quicker as the hours worked by, until it was full and yellow in the cloud burdened sky. Sometimes Arthur would notice Vivi begin to shake, and he would glance over in time to see his friend bury her face down into the soft folds of her scarf.
True he wanted to speak with Vivi, comfort her and fulfill the promise he made to her back in the mansion. A part of him hoped she would forget again, forget the place of memories, solitude, and resentment. But that would be selfish, and Arthur was done with that.
Selfishness had ruined them in the first place. Vivi was mourning Lewis for the first time, Arthur reckoned, and the delicate scars that decorated his memories were torn asunder.
How would they get through this? How could they go on now? A small concern did nip at Arthur. If they left these old roads, would Vivi forget? Would it trigger her memory loss?
That enigma did eat away at him. He had been so accustomed to the engine of the van and the rattle of rocks kicking into the undercarriage, Arthur had forgotten other sounds existed.
He turned to Vivi as she gazed through the windshield at nothing, her magenta glasses murky with dry tears. In the place of her voice the engine hummed, patiently waiting for her to resume.
Vivi shook her head and adjusted herself. Mystery leaned up over the seat more to lick at the top of her blue hair, as Vivi sank down into quivers. It was his fault.Chaim Weizmann’s autobiography is a highly personal account of his life in the Zionist movement.
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Fritz Pfeffer Friedrich "Fritz" Pfeffer (30 April – 20 December ) was a German dentist and Jewish refugee who hid with Anne Frank during the Nazi Occupation of the Netherlands, and who perished in the Neuengamme concentration camp in Northern Germany.
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