Anne saw the gate. 'Work makes you free', and work she would.
Young and healthy and strong and full of work described her well.
Mengele himself assigned her to Women's Barracks 29, immediately to work.

The Nazi officers made her strip. All the way down. She left on the sanitary
napkin panties so that her pad would not fall. A mistake. 
"Die Hose nach unten!" and as she began to cry she tugged them down.

Where was Peter now? She longed to be with him again, back in the
claustrophobic confines of the attic. Peter who she loved.
Peter who held her and told her everything was alright. Peter was
alive, she knew. One day, in the attic, he had given her 
peonies  - flowers in the sterility of her closed world. How he tried 
to protect and comfort her. Her changing body wanted to know Peter more 
closely than the cramped attic could allow, and she would have given
herself to him fully. She had always hoped the confinement would end and
she would be free again with Peter there too. Not this at all. 

Peter would think of Anne more than anything else on the desperate and
brutal death march from Auschwitz to Mauthausen. Peter would never go home,
his life ended three days before Mauthausen was liberated. Peter would 
die thinking of Anne.

When Allied bombers flew over the camp enroute to their targets, Anne
wished they would drop their bombs. End this thing.  Let it be over.
But they never did.

But as the Nazis began to lose ground, Anne's dream of leaving the lifeless
and bleak plane of Auschwitz would come true. Bergen-Belsen was a welcome
sight to her eyes. A place where birds might sing and spring might come again
with sunshine and flowers. Hope filled her again. 

But the intense crowding and filth brought an epidemic of typhus,
and soon Anne was sick. The life was draining from her quickly.
At one point she hallucinated, tearing off all her clothes in a horror
of bugs. But the scabies had burrowed into her flesh, and even without her 
clothing the tiny 'Kraetze' ate her alive. Three days later she would be dead;
three weeks later the British liberators would arrive. 

Anne's last deliberate conscious thoughts were focused on Peter.
It is too much for me, Peter, but I have tried to save myself for you
alone. She remembered back to their only shared kiss, the way it made
her seem to float away and above it all. Not a care in the world.