“Commit this to memory and then give it back,” he said.
“What is it?” I asked, unfolding the small square and reading the name and address written on it.
“If for some reason we get separated before Hamburg, that’s my contact there. She can hide you if need be, provide information, or help you escape.”
“How will she know to trust me?”
“You’ll give her my name.”
“Lee Baker?” I asked and he shook his head.
“Maximillian Brunner,” he said, giving me a sidelong look. “Or just Max.”
“Is that...”
“That’s my name here. That’s the name that will let her know you mean her no harm and are in need of assistance. It will also mean she’ll do whatever she can to help you. Even risk her own life.”
“But—” I stared at him, but his eyes were once again on the road.
I hated the idea that yet another person might have to risk their life for me. What I was doing was dangerous, selfish, and downright stupid. The only reason I was okay with Lee taking me was that he was apparently going this way anyways. Though I of course realized the addition of someone with no experience at moving through countries at war was a terrible imposition.
As the car rolled quietly through the streets, I looked out the window silently, staring up at buildings hollowed by fire, ash catching the sunlight and swirling, resting on the surface of the vehicle as we pressed on to a destination I hadn’t been told about.
At a tall, stark building we stopped. But as I reached for the handle, Lee stopped me.
“Stay here. I’ll be but a moment.”
I nodded and sank back into the seat, making sure both doors were locked after he exited. Despite the fact that we were in friendly territory, and had been for days, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we weren’t safe at all. Maybe because of the forged documents hiding in the lining of my valise. Maybe because I was terrified someone would take one look at my pale hair and eyes and assume I was the enemy.
Maybe it was just because we were in Germany, the root of the evil that had spawned dangerous arms and a viselike grip on so many, causing me to question almost daily if they were so weak-minded that they were easily convinced.
Or had they always been that way? Evil, waiting for the okay.
I jumped at the sound of Lee trying to get in the car. Seeing him through the window, I reached over and unlocked his door.
“I’m told there’s a post office with a staff not far from here,” he said, getting into the car. “Shall we?”
“Yes, please,” I said, hugging my purse to me.
I’d taken to writing William every day. Sometimes twice a day. Some were long and meandering letters, others short bursts of thought, opinions, and ideas. I missed him. Missed hearing his thoughtful responses. His laughter. The feel of his skin on mine. I hated that I hadn’t been able to send him my words. He must be so worried. And not knowing how he was drove me mad.
The post office was indeed close by and I smiled a little, my chest lifting with a breath of happiness as we pulled in and parked.
“I’ll only be a minute,” I said, opening the door.
It felt strange. Almost normal. To be walking up the steps to the post office, my purse strap over my shoulder, a hopeful spring in my step. Just a young woman mailing letters to her love. I smiled and glanced at my reflection in the window as I strode toward the front door, grimacing a little as I noticed the wrinkled state of my blouse and trousers. Hours in a car in clothes that had been hand-washed, wrung out, and hung to dry over a radiator time and time again these past several days hadn’t been kind to my clothing. But as I stood in line behind several others, I saw I had nothing to worry about. I didn’t stand out. We all looked worn and wrinkled.
“How can I help you?” a friendly young woman who looked to be my age asked in heavily accented German.
I placed the stack of letters I’d written before her.
“I’d like to mail these, please.”
She nodded, checking the address on each, then gave me a price. As I dug the money from my wallet I asked, “Do you know how long until they’ll arrive at their destination?” To which she laughed.
“Could be next week. Could be next year. One never knows these days with the train system an absolute mess.”
My heart sank as I handed over the correct change.
