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“Oh, Mayim! I’m sosorry.”
“I went to Adele’s friend’s house and she hid me there, but yesterday someone came to warn her that they were coming for me. She sent me to the next woman in the chain, but the same thing happened—that time there was no warning, and I only just made it out the back door before I heard them at the front. I’m sorry to make trouble for you and Adele, but I don’t know where Martha lives, and there was no one else.”
“Don’t be silly,” I whispered. “You’re my family. You always will be. Is there a plan from here? Can I help?”
“Adele called Martha a little while ago. She asked her to borrow her son’s car and come for a visit early tomorrow to help with errands. When she arrives, Adele is going to ask her to drive me to the Polish border...but I don’t know what happens after I get there. The border is closed and I have no passport. Adele said she has a little money...”
“There is more in your pocket,” I said. She reached into the coat pocket, and I knew her hand had closed over the wad of notes when her eyes welled with relief.
I suddenly realized why Adele had gone to such pains to ensure I wore warm clothing. Mayim was already wearing my coat, but now I took my hat and gently pulled it over her hair, and then I undid my boots. She passed me her shoes—worn flats, desperately in need of a new sole. They reminded me of the shoes I’d worn to the Nazi rally in 1933, and how frustrated I’d been that we had been unable to afford to repair them, or even to replace them. Looking back on that time, I saw myself as a foolish, spoiled stranger.
“Go,” she whispered. “Keep the children safe.”
“I’m trying,” I said, and my voice broke. In that instant, Mayim and I stared at one another—each of us completely unashamed of our distress.Thatwas what I’d missed the most. I could always be myself with Mayim. I no longer had that luxury with anyone else, not even with Jürgen, because we could only connect on an insecure phone, and not even with Adele, because of her increasing frailty.
We embraced one last time before I left the bathroom. Mayim closed the door behind me. I heard the bath shut off, and then the wireless, and then finally, the light seeping beneath the bathroom door was gone too. It felt as if she’d disappeared in an instant, or I’d imagined her.
Adele’s tea was still steaming by the time I returned to the kitchen. A bottle of her heart medication was on the table next to it, full to the brim with little white tablets.
“Ah, there’s your medication,” I said lightly, even as I wiped the tears from my face. “Thank you,” I mouthed. Adele shook her head, as if to say,Don’t mention it. She pointed to the notepad in front of her.
If anything happens, there is a letter for you buried in the jar of sweets.
I opened my mouth to protest, but Adele pressed a finger over her lips, then pointed toward the back door, stubbornness in her eyes. “I’m better now and your children are in that house alone.”
I bent and, for the first time in all those years I had known her, kissed her cheek. She caught me as I moved to straighten, held me close for just a heartbeat, and then I felt her lips against my cheek. Up close, I could see a purple tinge to her lips and her eyelids seemed heavy, as if she were struggling to keep them open. Her breathing scared me most. It was ragged, as if every breath were an effort, not a relief. I was gripped by a sudden, terrible fear.
“Oma,” I whispered. “Why don’t you come home with me?”
“I’m needed here. I’ll be fine,” she whispered dismissively. Then she straightened and, for the benefit of an audience that may or may not have even been listening, added loudly, “Thank you for coming over to help me.”
I had just slipped back beneath the covers of my bed with Georg and Gisela when the roar of an engine sounded. A car door opened, and there was a brief moment of silence before I heard shouting outside my villa.
I sprang out of bed, rushing toward the window to crack it open just a little. The icy air rushed in, and so did the sound of the Gestapo at Adele’s front door.
“Open the door, Mrs. Rheinberg!”
How much could she bear?
“Have you got the wrong house, young man?” Adele called from her bedroom window. She sounded stubborn, irritated...and weak. “This is Adele Rheinberg.Mrs.Adele Rheinberg. I am eighty-six years old. Do you really have business waking up an eighty-six-year-old woman in the middle of the night?”
“You’ll need to let us in, Mrs. Rheinberg!”
There was a long pause.
“No,” Adele called back, almost thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think I will.”
Cursing, I ran down the stairs, pulled on a coat, and stepped outside my front door. I made it to the hedge before Dietger came running toward me.
“Sofie, go back inside,” he hissed, pointing to my door. “This isn’t about you.”
“What’s happening with Adele?” I demanded. “She’s an old woman, Dietger! They have no business with her. Please go find out what’s wrong.”
“We need to let this play out, Sofie.” He sighed, shaking his head as he glanced toward her house. He dropped his voice, then admitted, “I don’t even know why they’re here. I didn’t call them.”
“This is your last warning, Mrs. Rheinberg,” someone shouted.
If Adele answered this time, I couldn’t hear her. I took a step past Dietger, out onto the sidewalk, just in time to see Adele’s front door open. It wasn’t her on the other side, but the woman from the studio apartment on the ground floor, looking bewildered and disheveled as the large contingent of Gestapo filed past her. My panic clawed at my throat and left me flushing hot. I took a step toward her house.
