“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Melanie groaned. “The last thing I want to do is face all those officers without you beside us.”
Chaisley took a sharp inhale. “I guess we better go. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner we can leave.” She heard the door open, and she scooted toward Melanie’s side of the car.
Once they were out and the door was closed, the noise of the engine moved away.
“All right,” Melanie whispered close to her. “Rick’s almost to the parking lot. If we pretend we’re just chatting here for a moment, then take the steps slow, I bet he’ll catch up to us before we reach the top.”
“Sounds like a great plan.” Chaisley shifted her bag containing her music.
“Wait. Don’t move. Someone is coming.”
She stilled at Melanie’s hushed warning, then pretended to smile. “Keep your appearance up. We’re just standing here chatting, remember? Perhaps they will simply pass by.”
But as the footsteps came closer, Chaisley’s insides began to shake.
“Miss Frappier.” A man whispered her name. “Please help.”
Something crinkled and then footsteps began again, but running away.
Quick steps toward them accompanied those moving away. “Hey, who was that?” Rick’s concerned tone was accented by a deep breath.
“I’m not sure.” Melanie sounded as confused as Chaisley felt. “But he gave me an envelope.”
Chaisley took it and turned around. “Let’s go back to the car, where we can read it and then lock it up in the auto if we need to. We’ve got plenty of time before the concert begins.”
“But Herr Hitler is expecting you in less than twenty minutes.” Melanie’s voice quavered.
“If we’re late, we’re late. Let him think me a diva. I don’t care.” She took long strides in the direction she assumed was the parking lot.
“Watch out.” Rick gripped her elbow. “There’s a step coming up.”
The three of them walked to the car side by side, and once they were all inside, they each locked their doors. Chaisley wasted no time opening the envelope. Just like she suspected, it was written in braille. And not just braille—but their code. Which meant that Grandmother or one of Dr. Grafton’s contacts must have helped this man reach out to her.
Her fingers quickly scanned the letter and tears burned at the corners of her eyes. She swallowed against the lump growing in her throat. “That man was a teacher. He’s hidden twenty-seven young children that are deaf or blind and needs help getting them out of Germany. They’ve been threatened, and he’s afraid they have run out of time. Three sets of the parents went to the Nazi leaders to protest the order that they be sent away to special schools. Those parents were taken to the camps.”
“Oh no.” Melanie’s words came out on a sad sigh. “What about the others?”
“A few of the parents have completely abandoned their children.Some are trying to get extra jobs to earn enough money to leave. Then there are a few that are Jewish, and the teacher doesn’t know where they are or what has happened to them.” Bile rose up her throat and Chaisley hated repeating what was on the page. “After the concert this evening, I’ll call Dr. G and get his advice.” She tapped the paper against her palm. “But wearehelping those children.”
“Give me the letter.” Rick’s command was soft. “I need to hide it.”
She folded it and placed it back in the envelope and then handed it over.
“We better hurry and get inside.” Mel’s voice sounded much more anxious than it had before. “Like you said, the sooner you perform, the sooner we can leave.”
With a nod, she opened her door and waited for her companions to be on each side of her. This time, there was no chatter, just their footsteps as they moved in quick silence to the concert hall.
“Wait here,” Melanie instructed, and Chaisley listened to the click of her heels across the floor. Sticking to routine was best. Her assistant would go speak to whomever was in charge and find the place they were to use as a dressing room. Then she would ask about Chaisley warming up on the piano. After that, they would hide out until the concert began.
Except this time, a wrench was thrown in the works.
Hitler demanded to speak to her.
They’d barely made it into the room when the rhythmic thumps of marching boots echoed down the hall.
As it grew louder, she reached for Rick’s hand and then Melanie’s. “Lord, help us!” The words rushed out.
“Amen.” Rick squeezed her hand.
