She would either tell the truth or she’d lie and say she’d killed him because God knows she wanted him dead.
And it was knowing this was a distinct possibility that had her now desperately wanting Melanie to drive faster.
It no longer mattered to her that much that the men who wanted to talk to her might know she was Russian born, not Polish, nor that they might be prepared to escort her in handcuffs to the airport with her final destination being Moscow.
It did matter to her that this fact might spell additional trouble for Melanie, and yet this didn’t seem to weigh on Melanie as much anymore.
Maybe she, like Eva, was finally ready to live her life in the shimmering light of truth. Yes, suspected communist Carson Edwards had hired a Russian housekeeper for Melanie who was masquerading as Polish. It was true. It also meant nothing.
Living in truth, even if it was difficult, had to be better than living in fear.
As they neared Yvonne’s house, Eva felt as though she was about to complete a circle now, one that would take her back to that moment Papa told her he’d see her again in a place where they would be safe, where they wouldn’t have to run or hide.
The blazing place of truth.
When the car pulled up in front of the little house, Eva intended to turn and wave goodbye to Melanie and June, wishing the best for them. There were boxes of her few belongings in the car’s trunk but she didn’t need any of it.
But Melanie would not hear of it when Eva asked to just be let out.
“For heaven’s sake, I’m not just dropping you off.” Melanie set the brake, turned off the engine, and then swiveled around to speak to Nicky. “You wait right here with Miss June. I’ll be right back.”
She got out of the car before Eva could formulate a protest.
“You don’t have to come with me,” Eva said, once out of the car and walking alongside Melanie to the front door. She was suddenly awash with a desire for Melanie to never know about Ernst. About what she had done to him and with his body…
She was ready to face what she’d done—all of it—but only as the person she’d been before.
“I know I don’t,” Melanie said. “But I’d like to know, too, if these men have been back to see you and why they’re here. And I want to make sure Yvonne’s home and you get in. Plus, you have stuff in the trunk.”
Eva was about to say she didn’t need anything from the trunk when the door opened and Yvonne stood there in front of them, her face an explosion of surprise and smiles.
“Oh my stars, Eva! I’ve been trying to find out where you were! I even called your agency to see if they knew where you were. I was worried when I couldn’t get anywhere, what with that fire and all. I’m so glad you’re here! I have the most amazing news for you.”
“News?” Eva couldn’t hide the apprehension in her voice.
“Those men came back looking for you yesterday.” Yvonne’s smile widened. “I told them what you said. That they could leave a note for you and I would forward it to you.”
“And?” Melanie prompted impatiently when Yvonne paused.
“I peeked at the note after they left,” she continued. “I know I shouldn’t have but I did because they said they were leaving tonight to go back to Minnesota.”
“Minnesota?” Melanie echoed.
“Eva, those men?” Yvonne said. “They are your brother Arman and that man you loved. Sascha. That’s who they are.”
The ground beneath Eva’s feet seemed to tilt and she instinctively reached for Melanie to keep from falling. Melanie’s arm was around her in the next half second.
“That’s not possible,” Eva whispered. To Yvonne. To herself. To the very heavens. “My brother and Sascha are dead.”
“No, they’re not. They’re alive. They were here.”
Eva pinched the soft lining of her underarm. She was dreaming.She was dreaming and she needed to wake up. “It can’t be true,” she murmured.
“But it is! Here’s the note.” Yvonne thrust the note toward Eva but she did not take it. Her arms felt like lead.
Because she was asleep. She was asleep. She had to be. No one survives the gulag. Especially not political prisoners. And especially not Germans.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Melanie reach for the note.
