In this chap­ter of “Moth­er Night,” the nar­ra­tor ascends to their attic, reflect­ing on the cold, sharp air that fills the space. The once-famil­iar scents of coal dust and cook­ing are gone, replaced by an unset­tling clean­li­ness rem­i­nis­cent of ear­li­er trau­mat­ic expe­ri­ences in Berlin dur­ing the bomb­ings. The nar­ra­tor, along­side Hel­ga, had faced destruc­tion mul­ti­ple times, recall­ing moments of climb­ing stairs to roof­less, win­dow­less homes while feel­ing tem­porar­i­ly free, akin to Noah and his wife on Mount Ararat.

This fleet­ing sense of free­dom van­ish­es quick­ly, remind­ing them that they are ordi­nary peo­ple lack­ing the rev­er­ence of a dove or covenant, real­iz­ing that the threats are far from over. The ten­sion ris­es as the air-raid sirens wail, sig­nal­ing an immi­nent dan­ger that they must con­front. The mem­o­ry unfolds to a shel­ter deep under­ground where the relent­less sound of bombs looms omi­nous­ly above. With­in the cramped space, a fam­i­ly sits oppo­site Hel­ga and the nar­ra­tor as the moth­er begins to address the unseen forces above.

Her voice starts soft­ly but soon builds with urgency as she acknowl­edges the anger pre­vail­ing above them. In a moment of des­per­a­tion, she implores for guid­ance, demand­ing to know what is expect­ed of them. When a bomb det­o­nates near­by, her pan­ic esca­lates, and in a mix of sur­ren­der and relief, she cries out for the chaos to cease, declar­ing their defeat. Trag­i­cal­ly, her hus­band knocks her uncon­scious, reflect­ing a grim real­i­ty in which reac­tions to trau­ma can diverge into vio­lence.

The hus­band’s instinc­tu­al need to con­trol the sit­u­a­tion leads him to approach a vice-admi­ral present, seek­ing to absolve his wife’s moment of hys­te­ria, fram­ing her break­down as typ­i­cal and expect­ed. The vice-admi­ral, main­tain­ing a com­posed demeanor, reas­sures the hus­band, affirm­ing that such moments of weak­ness are under­stand­able. This inter­ac­tion cap­tures the harsh real­i­ty of their cir­cum­stances, where the ongo­ing bom­bard­ment con­tin­ues to dic­tate the char­ac­ters’ respons­es, ulti­mate­ly leav­ing an indeli­ble mark on the chil­dren present, as well as on the nar­ra­tor, who sens­es an endur­ing change with­in them­selves.