The blonde-haired boy who is about a year away from being my height sneers at me with apparent anger. I stare back, telling myself he’s still a child. If I can spare Celina the trouble of caring for a Nazi in training, I will.
The stare between me and this rude child breaks and he swats his hand for the shoulder strap of his bag and trudges off ahead of the rest of us.
“No one has ever spoken to him that way,” Celina whispers.
“These children are being taught to hate when we were all born to love. There is still a chance for them,” I say. I must believe that. If I don’t, there might be no hope for the future of humanity.
FORTY-FOUR
HALINA
Upon arriving back at the Schäfer residence with the children, I see there are a couple of vehicles parked out in front of the house. Neither of the cars belong to Heinrich, leaving me to wonder who I’ll find inside, and for what reason. My chest burns, knowing Gavriel is in there, and wondering what business Ada had to tend to, and if this is the result.
“Who’s here?” Marlene asks. “Are we having friends over?”
“Some of the people your father works with,” I answer flatly.
Sweat beads on the back of my neck as I settle the carriage by the front of the house and make my way to the door. Marlene races ahead of me and flies into the house with curiosity. Isla is dragging her knapsack on the grass behind me, moping in my shadow. I turn to wait for her to walk in ahead of me, spotting drivers inside the cars, both staring out the windshield in waiting.
I step inside, finding several people moving back and forth between the kitchen and the servant entrance. Ada storms out of the kitchen, taking a hard left in our direction, greeting her children with weak hugs and kisses on each cheek. “How was school, my darlings?”
Marlene begins to chatter but Ada’s mind is elsewhere as she stares at me with an undecipherable thought she must think I can read from her mind.
“What is it?” I whisper.
She grabs my arm and pulls me into the family room—the forbidden space to anyone but family. “You and—him,” she says, peering up at the ceiling as if Gavriel is directly above her rather than on the other side of the house and in the attic, “will have the chance to—” She shifts, preparing to explain her undoing. “Go…at eight p.m. tonight during the commandant’s speech. I can’t do anything for you at any of the checkpoints. This is all I can offer.”
“Gavriel will have to return to Auschwitz before eight,” I tell her, delaying my thought on how in the world we will make it through a guarded checkpoint.
“I’ve arranged for him and the others to stay until the dinner is over—to serve where needed.” Gavriel can hardly stand, but I understand the options are limited. “He’s already been informed.”
Ada takes Flora from my arms and holds her against her chest with her fingers splayed across her back as if she’s holding a fragile piece of a glass—not in the way she normally holds onto Flora. A subconscious goodbye for the one she’ll never have, perhaps. Flora should be her in mother’s arms, not Ada’s. “The girls need to be dressed appropriately tonight for their brief appearances.”
This is her grand solution—or so she claims. All I can do is pretend to believe her. To trust that tonight isn’t a carefully crafted trap I’ll walk into. I turn toward the staircase, gathering the girls with a wave of my hand.
“Wait,” Ada says.
I pause, turning back.
Ada takes a linen wrapped square package and hands it to me then pats the top with a silent finality. “That boy can’t be seen inthat uniform. I have some clothes that should fit him,” she says, a tremor taking a hold of her body. “I do hope you understand the kind of wrath I’ll face after you’ve gone missing.”
I glance down at the bundle of clothes, realizing I hadn’t thought about Gavriel’s tell-all uniform. “You might consider marking an end to his vengeance. It’s your life—you should have a say in how you live it.” It pains me to offer heartfelt advice to a woman who clearly thinks she’s better than the rest of us, but I believe there is good in everybody, even if it’s been overshadowed with years of manipulation and hatred. The only way for her to end the evil is to stop taking part, but that takes a form of courage she doesn’t have.
Ada scoffs and rolls her eyes up toward the ceiling. “You must think I’m a fool who married for status…Well—I was, but since then, believe me, Halina, I have tried to put an end to my situation here.” She hisses like a snake and shakes her head. “I should have taken the gun from Heinrich’s office when I had the chance, but it turned out my inner conscience is still alive, somehow, and I remembered who I am—who I was. That’s the real pity of my story.”
Marlene and Isla are settled for the moment, taking a rest before a long night, giving me time to see to other loose ends before getting them prepared for the dinner. I’ve even managed to set Flora down for a nap in her crib, something she doesn’t normally cooperate with. Ada’s words are playing repeatedly, the shock in her confession surreal, unfortunate, and yet, all too understandable. Everything in life has a consequence and she knows this just as well as the rest of us.
I make my way upstairs before I lose the chance to check on Gavriel and find him slouched over two wooden saddles with a plank overlapping both. He has the saw locked in a slight wedge of the wood, sweating, straining, shaking to get the saw to move.
“I have clothes for you to change into,” I whisper, drawing nearer to him. His complexion is still pale and waxy. He’s on his feet though.
“How?”
“Ada gave them to me.”
“How can we trust her?” Gavriel asks, staring at the linen wrapped bundle.
“We can’t. We won’t. But you need these clothes.”
