She didn’t raise an eyebrow. “I don’t think she did, either.”
“Do you know what happened to her?”
Emilie shook her head. Her voice when she spoke again was wrapped in restrained emotion. “I only know that seven of my students were taken to that place, and three of them have died recently from sudden illness, or such has been communicated to their families. The same thing has happened to children from another school like this one in another district.”
My blood chilled beneath my skin. “Good God,” I said asanger and fear and dread bubbled up inside me. “What is going on?”
Emilie cleared her throat and shook her head to toss away gathering tears. “I have a family member who knows someone at the Reich Chancellery in Berlin. The führer has come up with a scheme to, as his friend would say, ease the burden of those whose quality of life has been impacted by age, illness, or disability.”
“Is this scheme called T4?” I asked.
Emilie’s eyes widened. “Yes. Aktion T4. Where did you hear of it?”
“When I went to the hospital to try to get Brigitta back, the front desk nurse asked me if I was attached to that program. What is it?”
Emilie leaned forward in her chair, as if to keep the walls from hearing her. “I only know because this family member told me, and he only did so because he cares for me and he knows what kind of school I run. I’m asking you not to disclose to anyone where you learned what I am about to tell you. My instincts tell me that I can trust you. I want you to know that it’s real, and it’s happening.”
“You have my word,” I said quickly. “What is the T4 program?”
“It’s for one purpose only.” Emilie swallowed before continuing, as though to fortify herself for speaking the rest of the answer. “Krankenmorde.”
The word fell on my ears like a hammer.Krankenmorde.Mercy killing.
“What are you saying, Emilie?”
“They are killing disabled people in the name of mercy.”
“Brigitta?” I said, stricken. “They killed her?”
Emilie nodded and brought a handkerchief to her eyes to dab at sudden tears threatening to spill. “She is not the only one, Helen.There have been others. Some they’ve murdered with gas, others with injections.”
“How many?” I whispered, tears gathering at my own eyes. “How many have they killed?”
“I don’t know. No one does. I just know it’s dozens upon dozens. And they’re still doing it. They are gathering up disabled people of all ages: babies, children too little for school, boys and girls like Brigitta, adults young and old. In Germany and Austria. Perhaps in Poland and Czechoslovakia, too. They’re being taken to places like Am Steinhof, and their families are being told they’re being institutionalized for their own well-being. But they are not caring for these people at these places. They are killing them.”
I sat back in my chair. The tears I’d been holding back slid down my cheeks. For several moments, neither of us said anything.
“We must do something!” I finally said. “We must stop it.”
“You know as well as I that we can’t. No two people can.”
“Why did you tell me this if it’s impossible to stop!”
“Listen to me,” Emilie said urgently. “We cannot save them all. But I think you and I can save one.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I have been watching you from the moment Brigitta was taken. You refused to give up on her. You refused to do nothing. You can help me save one.”
“How?” I said, instantly hungry to know more.
“I know all the children who would’ve been starting school here in September. I have completed their assessments and I know which ones will likely be added to the terrible list of those bound for Am Steinhof. And... I have spoken to their parents. Most of the parents won’t consider being parted from their children. They didn’t believe me when I said their children are in danger. Butthere is one family who wants us to take their little boy and get him out of Austria.”
Though invigorated by the thought of rescuing a child destined for Am Steinhof, I shook my head. “I don’t see how I can help. Captain Maier let me go. I don’t have a posting anymore and my work visa is going to expire in a few months.”
“I know Herr Maier let you go,” Emilie said. “He told me at the funeral that was his plan. I know you need a new job, so I telephoned my sister-in-law. She’s a Cistercian nun at a Catholic school in Switzerland. Switzerland, Helen. It is the last safe place left in Europe. Martine told me once that you studied at university to be a teacher. My sister-in-law—she goes by the name Sister Gertrude—told me the school needs another live-in teacher, especially one who can teach the English language. You could have a place there, if you want it and if you can persuade the Swiss to give you a work permit. You could be on a train tomorrow or the next day or the next—whenever we can get you your travel visa—taking your new charge, Wilhelm, to see his auntie, couldn’t you?” Emilie said hopefully. “You could give that story to anyone who asks, yes? That you are a nanny taking a young boy to visit his elderly aunt in Lucerne.”
“His aunt.”
