“Yes, thank you. What were you two discussing before I interrupted?”
“Right,” Mr. Jones said. “Well, we’ve hit a bit of a snag in the plan. The car I was to provide for you got waylaid, the driver delivering it detained for official reasons he can’t immediately untangle himself from. This is not necessarily a bad thing though. The roads north of Luxembourg, where the car was to be, are a bit treacherous at the moment. The Allies are still working to push forward farther into Germany. So, I’ve come up with a bit of a workaround.”
As he explained the plan, dread crept up my spine like icy fingers slowly stepping one vertebra at a time. The plan was to drive north and then ditch the car we’d been using in Luxembourg. From there we’d take a rowboat in the dead of night up the Moselle River to a location farther north.
“Is the river not patrolled?” I asked.
“It has been,” Mr. Jones said. “But the guards along the path have lessened considerably. So long as the boat is kept near the riverbank, you should go undetected.”
I looked to Lee. “I’ve never rowed a boat before.”
“We’ll have a guide,” he said. “He’s done the trip several times and knows the different areas and what to listen and look for.”
“There’s no other way?” I asked.
“Not for this part of the trip.”
I nodded, my heart racing in my chest as I considered what I’d just been told. I didn’t like the idea of being on a river in the middle of the night. Not being able to see, in temperatures that were nearly unbearable. On the water they’d be worse. What if we capsized? What if we were seen and shot? There’d be nowhere to swim or run. We’d most likely drown.
“Kate?” Lee said. “Are you okay with this?”
I pictured Catrin, her blond curls and wide blue eyes the same shades as mine. Her small fingers constantly reaching for me, in the garden, at the beach, in my bed that she’d snuck into once again, her voice seeking me out at all hours of the day.
Our mother had just begun to scrutinize her the way she’d been doing to me for years. And then I’d left her, barely able to tell her, warn her, or comfort her, because in doing so, I might risk the plan.
I remembered when it had begun for me. My mother’s impersonal demeanor as she asked probing questions and inspected my body. I’d been young. Younger than Catrin. But also less agreeable. I recalled being sixteen and taking a bath, enjoying the solitude after a particularly uncomfortable dinner with my parents, Catrin in her own bathroom being tended to by Nanny Paulina. My mother had barged in and demanded I stand so she could inspect me, pinching the skin at my waist and inner thighs before making me turn so she could see my backside.
“Your father mentioned you look heavier. I see he’s right. Have you been snacking between meals?”
“Of course not,Mutter,” I’d said, turning to face her once more.
The crack of her hand meeting my cheek echoed throughout the bathroom, the sound circling back and settling in my head, the force causing me to slip. I grabbed the side of the bathtub as she stood glaring down at me.
“I don’t believe you,” she’d said. “Until you stop. Until I see some change in your appearance, you will not be allowed breakfast and your dinner will be cut in half.”
I hadn’t said a word. It wouldn’t matter if I did. I’d merely nodded and waited until she’d left the room to let the tears fall.
I looked back at Lee, fury burning in my veins. I’d left Catrin with that monster. I had to make it right.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m more than okay.”
26
The crossing ofthe border from France to Germany was daunting, my entire body on alert as we left one country for a much more dangerous one.
“You okay?” Lee asked, his voice soft.
It was the first time since we started out on this mission that he’d been quiet. Up until now, he’d kept conversations flowing in our hours in the car and during our many meals together. Like my uncle, he was a skilled conversationalist. His silence stoked the fire of my fears.
I glanced at him, watching him watch the road, his eyes seeming to take in every inch of the small town we were driving toward and the short line of cars idling at a checkpoint littered with armed guards.
I glanced at Lee, considering his question, my hands gripping my purse as I prepared to present my identification at the checkpoint.
“Yeah,” I said.
He nodded, pulling to a stop behind two other cars. When it was our turn, a guard stepped up to the driver’s side window and held out a hand for our papers as a tank rumbled by on the passenger side, shaking the car...and my nerves.
The guard handed back our IDs and paperwork and waved us through. As we drove through a small town that looked like so many of the previous towns we’d passed, Lee pulled out a small square of paper from his pocket and handed it to me.
