Page 57 of The Librarian Spy

“And a German pamphlet of a fan is so much more important?” Ava shot back, referring to some of the more ridiculous things they sent to DC and refusing to be cowed by his censure.

Mr. Sims narrowed his eyes. “It could be useful in breaking down the mechanics of other items.”

Ava stood up, evening out his advantage of looming over her. “This is important. People need to know about this.”

“They already know. It’s in the papers,” he scoffed. “It’s a letter and a waste of time.”

Anger and irritation roiled in Ava’s mind. “Mr. Sims, there’s more to it than all that,” she said levelly. “Today is ephemeral.”

His face screwed up at her effrontery. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

She was saying the wrong thing again, muddying what she meant in her urgency to defend her stance. Drawing in a deep breath, she refocused her efforts and tried again. “I mean that this present we live in is tomorrow’s history. You ask if this is important. This is the education for our future, to learn from the mistakes that have been made now and never let atrocities such as this continue or be repeated.”

The room fell silent.

“She’s got you there, Simsie.” Mike’s voice broke the spell, and Mr. Sims swiveled his glare on the younger man.

“Don’t call me Simsie,” he barked. “Or you’ll be back on US soil before you can attempt an apology.” With that, he stormed from the room.

Peggy mouthed, I’m sorry.

But Ava shook her head. This was an argument that needed to happen, one she had to win. Going forward, she would do everything possible to acquire more letters like this one, so the world would know exactly what the Jews of Europe were up against.

FOURTEEN

Elaine

Elaine found Manon sitting on the cushioned seat at the piano, her slender fingers resting on the keys without playing. As if the instrument no longer gave off music. Or perhaps it was the woman who’d lost the melody.

“Manon?” Elaine stepped lightly into the room to avoid startling her.

Manon removed her hands from the piano. “I did not expect you for some time.”

“I need to speak with you.”

Manon turned on the bench to face Elaine. Her dark eyes seemed larger than usual, her cheeks hollow beneath her sharp cheekbones. There was always a fragility about the woman, but suddenly she appeared immensely delicate, susceptible to being swept away by the slightest whisper of wind.

Perhaps the conversation should not be had after all.

“What is it?” Manon asked.

Elaine’s tongue went still with indecision.

“Do you need my help?” Manon indicated she should take a seat on the plush blue velvet settee. “Whatever it is that is on your mind that you are struggling to say, I want to know what it is.” Despite her wan appearance, her voice was strong.

Elaine obediently settled on the sofa without leaning back, and the words dislodged from the stubborn place in her chest. “I’ve met a mother and son who are without a home at present. Yours would be more suited for them than other safe houses.” Elaine gave a regretful smile. “I know that means I will give up my place here with you, but I think it better for them.”

“You may stay as well,” Manon offered. “The couch—”

“I couldn’t add to your risk or theirs.”

Manon gave a small, thoughtful smile. “It is considerate of you to put them first. They can come, of course.”

“They are Jewish,” Elaine said. “The boy...”

Manon nodded. “I understand.”

“It will place you in more danger than previous guests.”