“So she found you,” Raphi said from further down the table.
Felix looked up, caught the warmth behind his friend’s eyes.
“She must have a perfect nose then,” Raphi added, the meaning behind it clear. They were all his friends—the Klonimus brothers and everyone who came with them. But Raphi had once lost Laila. Had clawed his way back from that kind of absence. He understood.
Felix didn’t answer right away.
Maybe he needed to stop hiding. Maybe it was time to be found. By Maisie, of course.
Felix’s fingers brushed lightly over the pup’s head. Her ears flopped with the movement, and her head lolled once more against his coat. “She’s thin,” he said, quieter now. “But I’ve fed her. She’ll be alright. She just needs some care.”
Rosie glanced at Gideon, and the look they shared was quiet and sure, the kind only couples fluent in each other could pull off. She turned back to Felix.
“Anishumela,indeed,” she said softly, echoing Pavel’s words. Her French accent smoothed the syllables into something almost musical.
Her eyes lingered on Felix as he adjusted the muslin around the puppy again. He didn’t notice—he was focused on keeping her warm—but it was the sort of gesture that lingered. Quiet. Endearing. The kind people remembered.
“She’s a soul of sweetness, this one. Look at these eyes! Such trust, such light.” Raphi traced a finger down the pup’s delicate nose while she barked softly, a sound more chirrup than growl.
“How about Goldie? A soul wrapped in golden fur,” Gideon said.
“Says the Crown Jeweler who works with gold?” Felix arched a brow.
“So do you, the dentist who works with gold,” Raphi’s retort caused the others in the room to break out in laughter.
Felix turned to Raphi, curiosity piqued, his gaze settling on his friend. “You have that speculative expression again. Pray, do not subject us to one of your whimsical names.”
“Whimsical, is it?” Raphi sat upright, feigning affront written all over his face. He scratched beneath the puppy’s chin, his tone softening as he spoke. “Her name’s clear, Felix. It came to me this very moment. Lilly.”
Felix blinked. “Lilly?”
“Yes.” Raphi’s dark eyes met his, brimming with a sincerity that Felix, for all his stoicism, could not dismiss. “Lilly, like the flower. Pure. Bright. Cherished.” He hesitated, stroking the pup’s soft ears, his voice quieter now. “It calls to me. Like anishama… a soul. Something too good for this world, but here just the same.”
“How very symbolic,” Gideon said. Even he must have caught on that Raphi nudged Felix with another double meaning.
But he was right. Lilly was perfect in so many ways.
Beside Raphi, stacked neatly at the edge of the table, was a bundle of letters tied with thin cord.
“I picked these up at the meeting with the Rabbi this morning,” Raphi said, brushing a hand across the bundle. “Mostly the usual. Lost fortunes, missing persons, half-written names. Just initials in most. Nothing from Vienna. Nothing in German.”
Felix knew the sort, handwritten pleas, inquiries, hopes folded into cream-colored paper.
He paused, touching one envelope that bore a faint smudge near the seal. “This one looked like it might’ve been kissed,” he added, voice lighter than the words deserved.
“Someone missing someone, I suppose.”
Felix’s gaze dropped to it. His fingers twitched. There was something about the way the ink bloomed just slightly where the name should be but only letters appeared. Someone’s initials. A softness to the fold. He didn’t reach. Didn’t dare. But his breath caught.
It could have been her. Could have been.
Not with those initials though. Not in English.
But the puppy gave a soft, startled squeak and wobbled into Joseph’s lap, kicking Felix’s thigh in the scramble. The boy laughed, delighted.
Felix blinked down, refocusing.
When he glanced back, Raphi had already swept the stack into his satchel, the knot in the twine tugged tight. “They’ll go to the committeeat the synagogue,” he said, voice light again. “Perhaps someone else will recognize a name of a missing relative.”
