“So we also did this?” Noah asked. “Took in kids?”
She smiled wryly. “Not in quite the same way. Americans did try to pass a similar bill to England’s, but it got shot down.”
Welp.“Why?”
“A lot of people thought the refugees were someone else’s problem—they were Jewish, and the States didn’t want more Jews, and the Nazis were a European problem. However, some people refused to sit by quietly. These people started an unofficial American Kindertransport program, privately bringing kids to the States. They placed children with foster families until they were twenty-one. These private citizens saved over a thousand kids, who’ve become known as the One Thousand Children.”
One thousand children. A huge amount, though not as many as ten thousand. Still, one thousand children, saved, without government intervention. One thousand lives saved though the acts of ordinary people.
“I thought I’d put you in touch with my friend, a postdoc in modern Jewish history,” the rabbi said. “She’ll know how to find out if your grandmother had any connection to the group.”
“Yes, please,” I said. “Thank you so much.”
“Great.” She glanced at the clock. “Time to start getting ready. Are you staying for services?” She read our expressions and laughed. “You don’t have to.”
I opened my mouth, and Noah kicked me under the table. “I think we’re going to head out. Thanks so much for seeing us.”
“Of course. Come by anytime. Very nice to meet you, Abby.”
We left, and I glanced at Noah as we walked through the halls. “So what’s the Arboretum?”
“It’s a park in Boston.”
“A... tree park?”
His lips quirked up. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”
“The ‘etum’ part gave it away,” I teased. “What an overused synonym for park. People are always running around saying, ‘Etum the cah in Hahvahd yahd.’”
“You’re ridiculous,” he said, laughing and pushing open the door to outside. He shook his head at me as I beamed up at him, thrilled with my terrible joke.
Noah stilled.
“What?” My head swiveled in the same direction—and I saw his parents walking directly toward us. I, too, froze, deerlike. “Oh no.”
“Abigail!” Noah’s mom paused as we reached each other. “How nice to see you again. And Noah. How unexpected. What are you doing here?”
“Abigail’s concerned for my spiritual well-being.”
His mom smiled nervously.
“He’s joking,” I said quickly. “We’re...”Oops.I didn’t actually want to bring up my grandmother. “Stopping by.”
“Are you staying for services?”
Noah shook his head. “Nope.”
His father spoke for the first time, tone rich with disapproval. “Why not?”
“We have plans already,” Noah said. He took my hand, and I wasn’t sure if it was for support or to pull me along if he started running.
“Hm.” Harry Barbanel’s focus landed on me. “And how is your... research... going, Abigail?”
I didn’t like Harry Barbanel calling me by my full name. It felt like an attack, instead of sweet, as it did when Noah used it. And myresearch? Well. I didn’t want to talk about it with him at all, not with the memory of how he’d beckoned Noah back into Golden Doors after the disastrous dinner, the way Noah had gone stiff and retreated into the Barbanel ranks. I gave Mr. Barbanel a closed-lipped smile. “Good.”
Mrs. Barbanel tucked her hand around her husband’s elbow. Possibly she, too, was prepared to pull her partner along. “Have a nice night, you two. We’ll see you later.”
We waited until they’d disappeared into the meeting house and we’d walked a minute before talking. Even then, I kept my words low-pitched. “Did your parents say anything about the dinner last week? What do they know about my, um, research?”
