“I just sent for a guard. Someone will be here within the next few minutes.”
The officers walk several steps behind us, and I do my best to listen in on their conversation. “Has your wife ever?—”
The conversation becomes entirely silent.
“What? No. Are you sure?” the other officer asks.
“It was locked,” Schäfer says, the rest of his statement seeping into a passing gust of wind.
Locked?
NINETEEN
HALINA
Should I act as though the shouting between Officer Schäfer and his wife wasn’t echoing between every wall of the house? Or that I’m not just a few steps away from them both? They can’t possibly want their children watching this brutal argument take place in the kitchen when the rest of us are in the small adjacent play area. Isla watches them as if she’s holding a magnifying glass, studying their every motion, and mentally recording each word.
“It’s clear you were in my office,” he hollers again. “Why were you rummaging through my work?”
“I—I wasn’t in there, Heinrich,” Ada says, her words weak, unsure and withering into doubt. “You must have forgotten to lock it when you came out of there last.”
“You must think I’m stupid,” he snaps back. “Just two nights after you vehemently shared your concern about me keeping a?—”
“Don’t—” Ada growls. “Not in front of the children.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about then. Following our discussion and your disdain for me—” he lowers his voice as if it will make a difference when we’re all in the same space, “keeping means to protect our family at night, I immediatelylocked my office door. I haven’t been in there since, and now—it’s unlocked and—the?—”
“Heinrich…” she warns him. “This is absurd. No one is coming after us. You’re a lieutenant colonel.”
“Ada,” he growls. “The Allies invaded Sicily. They bombed Rome. And Mussolini was arrested last week. Do you think it all ends there? Italy could surrender any day. First Mussolini, then the Führer will be next, and when he falls, we all go with him.”
Mussolini. Arrested? If dictators are being taken down…what does that mean for the ones standing behind them.
“Did any of you see anyone in my office today? Or were any of you in my office today?” he barks at us, stepping to the side of Ada to be in our clear view.
“No, Papa. We know never to go inside your office,” Isla says.
“I don’t even know where the key is,” Marlene follows.
As if he needs to be reminded that the door would need a key to be unlocked, he drops his hands into his pockets and pulls out the silk lining from each.
He takes several more steps toward us, his stare centering on me as I hold Flora tightly to my chest, patting her back as I’ve found it comforts her for a bit. “What have you seen? You were here all day, were you not?”
“I didn’t see anyone walk inside your office. I haven’t seen a key. I certainly didn’t go inside, and neither did the girls. I’m afraid I can’t be of much help.” I’m able to speak with a level of confidence I’ve possibly stolen from Ada. I’m not sure where I’m pulling this strength from, but I have no reason to sound guilty or afraid to answer him truthfully.
“It must have been one of the prisoners,” he grunts, turning around and ambling past Ada. He wraps his hands behind his red neck and weaves his fingers together, his gold ring catching the kitchen’s ceiling light.
The thought of the blame shifting to the others cramps my stomach, leaving me with a sense of guilt I couldn’t prevent.
“They wouldn’t have a key, dear,” Ada follows. “Where did you put the key after you locked the door?”
Heinrich doesn’t respond. Instead, he begins to pace back and forth between the entrance of the kitchen and his wife.
“Papa, do you want me to help you find the key?” Marlene offers.
“Do you know where it is?” he snaps, coldly.
“No. But I can help look.”
