Ernst smoothed the yellow paper on his desk. Then he called the headquarters office in Salzburg and asked them to pay a visit to the castle of swans.
He wouldn’t hurt Max when he found him, at least not at first.
First he would eliminate what Max prized most.
CHAPTER 33
LAKE HALLSTATT, AUSTRIA
APRIL 1939
Life grew inside her.
She hadn’t told Annika about the baby, but while her friend slept, Luzi spent the midnight hours ripping seams from Frau Dornbach’s borrowed clothing to accommodate her growth. She had altered several dresses and a skirt for Annika too, replacing her friend’s worn clothing. Unlike Luzi, Annika grew thinner as the months passed.
Luzi wanted to hate this baby inside her, the offspring of a man who’d stolen what he had no right to take, but each time she felt the baby move, she clung to a new hope. This child was hers, not Ernst Schmid’s. She would raise him or her in these lakes, far away from the evil in Vienna.
This castle was her new home. Annika her sister, of sorts.
The two of them had worked with Hermann to clean up some of what the fire had destroyed, though they’d closed the door to the parlor—it was beyond their ability to repair.
She whispered quietly to her baby at night, quoting the passages of Scripture she remembered in lieu of a song. But on the days her chest felt as if it were gasping for air, those days she missed her sister and parents so much that she wished her life had been stolen away as well, she’d walk down to the shore and watch the strands of mist linger over the lake.
A warm foehn blew down from the mountains this morning, bringing with it the damp fog and wreaking havoc on Luzi’s muscles and her mind. She’d already milked the goats, the handle of the tin pail cold in her hands, but she wasn’t ready to return to the castle. Life was a mist of sorts, she decided. It blew between two shores, never really going anywhere, and when the sun came out, the mist disappeared. In the light, everything became clear.
One day, when the madness ended, she would find Marta and raise her alongside the child growing within her—that hope drove her out of bed each morning, waiting for the sun.
Passover began today, the celebration of God’s passing over their people and their freedom from oppression in Egypt. Her parents had never celebrated the Jewish holidays, but Luzi’s grandparents remembered each one. Annika wanted to remember these holidays as they waited for Max, to celebrate the God who loved His people.
But how could she celebrate freedom today when her people were still being oppressed?
Last December, she and Annika had lit candles for Chanukah, remembering how God had provided to defeat the enemies of theJewish people. Annika had celebrated God’s miracles with her, and Luzi helped Annika celebrate the birth of her Christ with the turkey Hermann had brought for them and the small tree they’d found in the forest. They’d decorated the pine boughs with ribbons from Frau Dornbach’s bureau, glass balls, and miniature candles.
On Christmas Day, they’d read from the Dornbachs’ Bible, and Luzi hadn’t stopped reading it since. The New Testament was a story of a Jewish man, a righteous man who claimed to be the Messiah. As she read through the story of His crucifixion, she felt His wounds keenly. And she longed for the freedom He offered, no matter what the people around her took away.
On her left, Hermann’s motorboat streamed toward the estate, and he waved to her as he approached the boathouse. He joined them more often now, repairing things that were broken or bringing them meat from the fertile hunting grounds.
Annika had taught her how to fish and milk their goats, and Luzi had taught her how to sew. Annika had also cut Luzi’s hair and bathed it in hydrogen peroxide so she resembled a younger Aryan girl, a resident of these lakes. Together they’d raided the Dornbachs’ library during the winter months and read books that took them far from here.
For these months, the Nazis had left them mostly alone.
The Gestapo in the black cars had arrived at the estate last month, searching for Max. Luzi had hid in the space near the library’s fireplace while Annika told them the truth—that she hadn’t seen Max in a long time.
Annika hadn’t seen him since the day he left Luzi here, but some mornings the two women would wake up and find a note under their door. He didn’t give them much information, only a line or two, but it was enough to know he was safe. Twice he’dcomeinto the house while Annika was asleep. He’d kissed Luzi’s cheek, promised that he would return for her, and then he was gone.
His love for her never seemed to waver, and she wished with everything inside her that her heart didn’t feel so cold. Empty. As if she had nothing left to give except life to the one person who remained in her care.
If only Max could see how much Annika adored him. How she would do anything for him. If only he knew that Luzi was as broken and charred as the parlor in his family’s castle.
Hermann began crossing the bank toward her, and she released arms that had wrapped themselves around her chest.
Some nights, Hermann would come, and she’d hear him and Annika whispering together. Annika hid whatever was in Hermann’s bags in a plot between the trees, but Luzi harbored their secret for them. Just as they faithfully harbored hers.
She wanted to control her life, as she’d once controlled the music pouring from her violin, but life wasn’t a neat set of notes, composed by Strauss or Bach. It was much more messy, chaotic, like an orchestra tuning their instruments before the concert began.
Oh, she craved a concert. Musicians working together to create something beautiful that brought joy to the listeners, not something ugly to tear people apart.
Waiting was all she had now.
