“The Jews.” Laila turned sad dark eyes to Else. “This morning, the Gestapo raided the Jewish community center and took a card index—a roster of members. Not all the Jews in Denmark, but most of them.”
They could want a roster for only one reason, and Else’s fingers went cold. “Oh no. Are you going into hiding?”
“All six, seven thousand of us? Families with little children? Elderly people? How is it even possible?”
“I—I don’t know.” Surely something could be done. But what?
They turned onto the road that ran along the south bank.
Laila shook her head, making black curls swing. “I’m tired of thinking about it. Let’s talk about something else.”
“All right.” But what? The rumors about Gebhardt would hardly improve Laila’s mood. Nor would talk about the ever-increasing sabotage and ever-increasing arrests.
They strolled down the street under trees in autumn gold. Elegant buildings lined both sides of the lake, its waters reflecting the gray of the hazy sky.
On the sidewalk, someone had chalked aVin the shape of the Havmand’s tail. Her Havmand, and her heart brimmed to overflowing. What a great thing he was doing—not just serving as a courier but inspiring people.
“Are you going to Søllerød tomorrow?” Laila asked in an overly cheery voice.
“I am.” Incongruous joy bubbled inside. But the past two Sundays with Hemming had been idyllic as they opened up to each other.
“Is Hemming going too?”
“Oh yes.” Else had spoken too eagerly, so she feigned nonchalance. “He mentioned it over breakfast.”
One corner of Laila’s mouth curled into a teasing question mark. “What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing.” Oh dear, she was becoming quite the liar.
Laila nudged her. “Something has changed recently.”
“Changed?” Her voice stretched up too high. Apparently she’d failed to conceal that change.
“When you think I’m not paying attention, you look at each other like people in love. Longing looks. Looks that talk.”
“It isn’t like that. I just have a crush.”
“A crush? You expect me to believe that? You’re practically giddy lately, giggling at nothing, grinning to yourself, blushing anytime Hemming’s name comes up. Like now.” Laila’s voice took on an accusing tone, an attorney with an overwhelming stack of evidence.
“It isn’t...” How could she say Laila was mistaken when her own cheeks testified to the truth? But she had to protect Hemming. “It’s just a crush.”
A grumble rose in Laila’s throat, and she snapped her gaze away.
To change the subject, Else pointed to the lake. “Look at the swans. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Laila whipped back to her. “Haven’t we always confided in each other?”
“We have.” Else tried a consoling smile.
“You’re keeping something from me.”
She had no choice. To tell Hemming’s secret to anyone—even Laila—would be reckless. Besides, it wasn’t her secret to share.
But her gut ached for Laila. “You’re my best friend.”
“Am I?” Hurt flared in her eyes. “Friends trust each other.”
“Laila...”
