“I’ll see myself out. Good day, Fräulein Zeller.” Fleck tipped his cap and left.
Stunned, Anna took in deep breaths, attempting to come to terms with what had happened. She kneeled to Nia and placed a hand on the dog’s head. “Did you hear that, girl? We’re a team, now. And you’re going to live with me forever.”
Nia looked up, her eyes meeting Anna’s, and she wagged her tail.
PART5
GIGUE
CHAPTER42
OLDENBURG, GERMANY—JULY14, 1919
Anna and Nia finished their day of work, most of which was spent teaching a former ambulance dog handler how to perform traffic work with a guide dog, and then began their journey home. She adjusted her grip on Nia’s harness and glanced down at her dog, who was starting to favor her right front paw, due to a laborious day of training.
“You did great today,” Anna said.
Nia panted and padded forward.
“When we get home, I’ll give you some treats. And I’m thinking that we can convince Norbie to give you a belly rub.”
The dog whipped her tail back and forth.
Anna was incredibly proud of Nia. Over the past year and a half, she’d helped Anna train over a dozen new recruits—many of whom were former military dog handlers—to become guide dog trainers. The school, established by Dr. Stalling, had grown with branches in cities all over Germany, and they were now placing nearly six hundred shepherds a year with battle-blinded veterans.
God, I wish Max could see what Nia has done, Anna thought.
Although Anna had worked through much of her sorrow, she felt like a piece of her heart was taken when she lost Max. Her walks to and from work were filled with landmarks that spawned memories of their innermost conversations. The sight of hermutter’s piano was a constant reminder of the precious moments they’d shared together. Etched into her brain was the timbre of his voice, the way her skin tingled when he touched her, and the deep feeling of contentment while being held in his arms. And when she closed her eyes and allowed her heart and mind to drift into the past, the melody of his piano suite echoed in her head. She wished that they’d had more time together.Even a lifetime would not have been long enough, she’d often thought. But she was deeply thankful to have had Max in her life, and she hoped that her work at the guide dog school would honor his memory.
The war had ended with Germany’s formal surrender on November 11, 1918, a few days after Kaiser Wilhelm II abdicated his throne and fled to exile in the Netherlands. It was estimated that three million German men were killed with countless others injured or maimed. And the Treaty of Versailles, which was recently signed by Germany and the Allied nations, blamed Germany for the war and required it to pay reparations. The country was in economic and political turmoil. It might take generations, Anna believed, before Germany and its people would recover from the war. But she was determined to do her part—by restoring the lives of blinded soldiers—to help heal her homeland.
Anna and Nia entered Norbie’s workshop, filling their ears with a chorus of ticktocks. She unbuckled Nia’s harness, and the dog ran to Norbie, who was seated at his workbench.
“Nia!” Norbie placed down a clock tool and rubbed the dog. “How was your day?” he asked, looking at Anna.
“Gut,” she said. “How about you?”
“I sold a mantel clock,” Norbie said. “And I think I fixed that confounded grandfather clock that never strikes on time.”
Anna smiled.He loves complaining about that clock. He’ll be highly disappointed the day it chimes on time.
“Also,” Norbie said, retrieving an envelope from his workbench. “You received a letter from someone in Vienna.”
“Vienna?” She took the letter from Norbie and scanned the postage. “I don’t know anyone in Vienna.”
Norbie handed Anna a small screwdriver, which she used like a letter opener to tear the envelope. She removed the letter and read.
Dear Fräulein Zeller,
My name is Felix Weingartner. I’m the conductor of the Vienna Philharmonic, and I’m writing to you in response to a letter and manuscript I received from Maximilian Benesch.
Anna’s heart thudded inside her chest. “Oh, my God!” “What is it?” Norbie asked.
“It’s a letter from a conductor about Max’s composition! I thought it had been stolen!”
Norbie’s eyes widened. “Goodness!”
She leaned to him, allowing him to read with her.
