Relief coursed through her at the sight of the beloved grounds. She’d even arrived before noon.
Else rang the bell. In a minute, Janne Thorup opened the door. Weren’t the Thorups supposed to leave the night before with Laila?
“Else? Goodness!” Janne pulled her inside. “Where have you been? Why are you dressed like that?”
Else didn’t have time to explain. “Where’s Hemming? I have to—”
“Else!” Laila rushed out of the drawing room with Thorvald, and she pulled Else into a tight hug. “What happened? Where have you been?”
Else found Thorvald’s gaze over her friend’s shoulder. “Where’s Hemming? I have to speak to him.”
Thorvald frowned. “He left first thing this morning.”
Despite the heavy layers, a chill ran through Else, straight to the core. “This morning? He—he wasn’t supposed to leave until this afternoon.”
“He’s looking for you. He’s been frantic with worry.” Laila pulled back and narrowed her eyes. “What’s the matter? Why are you in disguise?”
“Looking for—me?” Else’s voice squeaked. “Did he—did he go to the boardinghouse?”
“He didn’t say.” Creases deepened in Thorvald’s weathered face. “Why? What’s wrong?”
Of course he’d look for her at the boardinghouse. Where Fru Riber was waiting.
Else’s knees wobbled and gave way, and she sank to the floor. “No...”
44
COPENHAGEN
Henrik strode down the street. With each step, his arms whapped the open edges of his black work jacket.
Else wasn’t at the Institute for Theoretical Physics.
He’d told Else’s friend Mrs. Iversen that he was the Jensens’ gardener, Henning, with a message too painful to relay by phone—her grandmother was in the hospital and Else needed to come to Vedbæk right away.
If Else came to the institute, she’d understand his message.
Henrik had no desire to return to the boardinghouse, but he had to find Else or some clue to where she’d gone. And he had to collect his belongings.
His journal didn’t mention his identity or his resistance work, but it was personal and revealing. And his Bible was inscribed to his mother. He wanted nothing to point to the Ahlefeldts or Lyd-af-Lys.
At this time of day, Fru Riber would be out shopping, so he wouldn’t have to endure the woman’s foul presence.
Henrik shoved open the door and ran upstairs to the women’s floor, forbidden for him to enter.
He entered. Else’s door stood ajar.
Thank goodness. “Else?” He knocked, and the door creaked open.
Everything in tatters. “Lord, no!”
Drawers upended, mattresses askew, pillows slashed open, clothing and papers and feathers littered the floor.
Henrik’s ribs crushed, slamming his lungs, and all the air rushed out in a guttural cry. “Else!”
“Hemming? What are you doing here?” Annika peered out from her room.
“What happened?” His voice ripped over his raw throat. “Where’s Else?”
