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“No. He only knew French.” That couldn’t be the farthest from the truth. Charles’s French is awful.
“What was he like?” Johann’s gaze remains on the pond.
“He was a great man. Hardworking. Sweet and loving.” All the things I had once considered Charles to be.
“You loved him very much.” It’s not so much a question as a statement.
“I did. Still do, even though he’s dead.” I cross my fingers, hidden beneath my skirt, that Charles is alive. Despite everything that happened between him, Hazel, and me, I don’t wish him dead. He’s Hazel’s husband now. And one day I’ll be Auntie Iris to their children.
But that won’t happen if I don’t fix my broken relationship with my sister first.
I scan the dark surroundings, the country occupied by the enemy. If I survive my time in France as an SOE agent, the first thing I’ll do when I return to England is to beg for Hazel’s forgiveness.
Yes, she was the one who became involved with my fiancé when she knew I loved him, but I was the one who walked away from what was left of our family. Even when she tried to contact me and make amends, I refused to talk to her.
I have no intention of missing out on being an aunt to their children. An aunt who can spoil and corrupt them in a way only aunts can do. I have all those things to look forward to, as long as Charles and I survive this war.
If Dieter was correct about Johann’s sister, Johann won’t have that.
“What about you?” I ask. “Do you have a girlfriend or wife back home waiting for your return?”
“I had a girlfriend. But we didn’t see eye to eye on a few things.” There’s a hardness to his tone that wasn’t there before.
“So, you broke up with her?” I don’t know why I’m interested in his relationships in his home country, other than it’s something to talk about beyond my fictitious dead husband and Dieter and the war.
“It was for the best. She was…” He pauses as if searching for the right word in French. “She was dangerous when it came to my sister.”
My eyebrows pinch together in a frown. “Why is that?”
Johann pushes himself to his feet, the movement abrupt and unexpected. “Because Hitler decided people with disabilities and those who are deaf don’t deserve to live.” The hatred in his voice would be enough to knock me onto my arse if I weren’t already sitting.
Before his words can sink in, Johann stalks off, his body language warning me not to follow.
And I’m left gaping at him.
52
JESSICA
June, Present Day
Maple Ridge
“This soap smells soooo good.”Emily holds up the homemade bar of soap from the festival booth for Zara, Simone, Avery, and I to sniff.
The vanilla, sage, and lavender scent sounds like an odd combination, but Em’s right. The soap does smell good. They all do, as I can attest to thanks to the two bars in my hand. And that’s me showing restraint.
I glance back to where we left the four brothers and Avery’s boyfriend. The boyfriend I’ve done a good job keeping a distance from, even though he’s done nothing to give me reason to fear him.
Katelyn is standing next to Troy, gazing at him like he’s lost Aztec gold. Her lashes and makeup are bolder than normal. She looks nothing like me. I’m only wearing lip moisturizer and a coat of mascara.
She looks put-together, pretty, flirtatious. Her skin is smooth and perfect. She doesn’t look like Frankenstein’s half sister.
She’s wearing a sundress that flutters in the breeze and strappy sandals. I’m wearing a T-shirt and jeans and sneakers. I don’t look pretty. I look comfortable. Invisible.
At one time, I was Katelyn. But my husband wanted it that way. I was the trophy he paraded in front of his friends, his colleagues, anyone he wanted to impress.
If part of me failed to meet his high standards, I would find out about it later—with his fist to my stomach. A cigarette to my thigh.
