Page 73 of The Truth About Us


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“And what? This would be a huge discovery for anyone.”

She lifted the uniform, chucking it from the chest onto the ground, then took a handful of papers in her clenched fists, crumpling them and sending them scattering to the floor.

“My grandmother volunteered at the Holocaust Museum. She devoted herself to that place, donated her time, money, all because of my grandpa’s past. If she had this... If she knew about it, she would’ve donated it all. The historical significance of it is huge, so why is it still here? Locked away? Hidden?”

She gripped her hair by the roots. She didn’t like this. Not at all.

Kaden stepped forward, his hands outstretched, pleading with her to calm down.

“All good points. But it’s not like it’s illegal to keep this kind of stuff. It stands to reason your grandfather would want this. It’s a part of his past and his history, albeit a difficult one, but that’s why these things aren’t sitting in his living room on display.”

His gaze fell to the papers at Abigail’s feet. He bent over and picked one up, a furrow in his brow. His eyes widened, and he raised his gaze to hers. “Abby...”

He turned the paper to her, concern flickering through his eyes as she bent her head to read.

“Irma Mentz,” she murmured.

“The name from the financial documents in your grandmother’s file.”

She had no idea what this meant, but nothing felt good about it. Whatever they were looking for was huge, and for the first time, Abby feared the secret.

“We can’t take this with us. In case my grandfather comes back, but I can take photos.” Removing her phone from her pocket, Abby stood and began the arduous task of snapping pictures of each item as her fingers shook.

“Do you think this is what Lawson thought was his big break? Finding this stuff?” she asked, as she worked. “I’m sure he could auction it off, and it’s kinda crazy, surprising, but he couldn’t possibly make enough off this to get rich.”

“I don’t know, but these are official documents of the Nazi party.” Kaden swallowed. “From the looks of it, Irma Mentz was a German officer, a Nazi.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Without a doubt, GG would’ve handed this all over to the museum. I know she would’ve. So, the question is, why did my grandfather have it? Why did he keep it from her? And why did Lawson think this was such a huge discovery, enough to change their lives?”

Kaden exhaled. “We know the German officers’ name was also on the financial paperwork for property your grandfather owns. We know your grandpa was a Jew, a survivor. This Irma guy was an officer, and they clearly have had some sort of relationship or some sort of connection we’re not getting and...” When his gaze snapped back up to Abigail, a band tightened around her chest.

“And?” she asked.

He stepped forward, an excited gleam in his eyes. “After the war, they started prosecuting soldiers with direct involvement in the camps, right? But a lot of them ran. What if somehow your grandfather discovered this guy was still alive? What if, years later, he confronted Irma Mentz.”

Abigail frowned. “So?”

“What if he blackmailed him? To keep him quiet.” Kaden’s gaze fell back over the papers. He picked another up off the ground as his eyes searched. “This would all be proof of Mentz’s identity, and your grandfather kept it. Safe-keeping to hang over his head because if he could prove who Mentz was, he’d surely be deported back to Germany and stand trial. There have been war criminals in as recent as the past ten years that have been convicted, and if convicted, they’d be sentenced to death for their crimes.”

“You think Mentz bought my grandfather that property as a bribe? That he might have given him money?” Abigail asked, peering at the documents in Kaden’s hand.

“I think it’s a possibility. Abby, what did your grandfather do for a living? How did your family get their money?”

Abigail shifted on her feet, uncomfortable with a conversation regarding her family’s wealth after the one they had the other day about Kaden’s. “Well, both my parents are real estate lawyers, but...”

She bit her lip, thinking about her grandparents and what she had been told. “A couple years after the war, they were able to recoup my grandfather’s home, some of his familial possessions. His father had owned his own accounting firm in Krakow, so they had money. My grandfather sold everything before he came to America, then once he settled here in the states and learned English, he opened his own business.”

Kaden straightened. “I wonder if that’s common? Jews recouping their wealth after the war?” Kaden rubbed his brow. “It seems...unlikely.”

Abby turned back to the chest, her spine stiffening. There was no need to get defensive. He was trying to help, and it was the best theory they had yet. Even if he was right, and her grandfather did accept a bribe to keep quiet, it was far less a crime than whatever atrocities someone like Irma Ment

z committed during the war.

“It’s possible,” Abby said, her voice weak. “But why would he do that after everything he went through? Wouldn’t he want to turn him in? To get revenge? Seek justice?”

“Maybe this was his revenge. Maybe he thought living a life having something that big hanging it over his head and taking his money was worse than dying. Sometimes, there’s mercy in death.”

Abby bit her lip. “Maybe.”

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