APRIL 1939
Luzi spent the night in the sliver of room behind the wall, sleeping in fitful stages. Twice she turned on the battery-powered lamp to check the time, but she never opened the panel to check on Annika or see who had come to the door.
By morning, her skin was slathered with sweat. The hiding space was warm, her body radiating heat, but more than that, it was the walls. In the darkness, they felt as if they were inching toward her. Black jaws ready to bite.
The third time she turned on the lamp, the clock read nine.
Baby pressed down against her bladder, and she would need to either leave this hiding place soon or maneuver her body over the chamber pot in this sticky, cramped space.
Leaning against the pillow, her mind wandered, back nearly a year ago when she’d been playing her violin at the Rathaus, entertaining the elite of Austria, dancing with Max around the polished floor. And now, in such a short time, everything had changed. At one time, she’d prided herself on being Luzia Weiss, daughter of the esteemed Dr. and Frau Weiss, but the Nazis had stripped the honor from that name. There was no honor or dignity left for her.
Baby kicked again, and if she didn’t move quickly, she’d leave more than sweat on the floor.
She pulled on the panel, cracking it open. Then she heard pounding in the room. The angry voices of men.
Her heart hammering, Luzi sealed up the space in the wall again, praying they hadn’t seen her. Her body began to tremble, and she curled up like a caterpillar, wishing again that she had wings. In the darkness, she could see the faces of these men, their brown shirts and badges, the black web etched of their arms. Every one of them looked like Ernst in her mind, wanting to hurt her and now her baby.
She heard them draw closer to her space, the echo of their pounding.
Tears fell onto her belly as she awaited her fate, praying for God’s mercy. When they found her, she wanted to go in strength as her father had, without fear marking her face.
Minutes passed—an eternity—and then just as quickly as it had started, the pounding stopped.
Luzi pressed her ear against the wood, straining to hear—she must hear—but the sound eluded her.
One and two and three and...
Triple time.
Not the pounding in the room outside, but the beats of her heart. The aching in her emptied soul. The music still escaped her but the measures remained, the steady pace keeping her mind from finding relief in madness.
Another hour passed counting the beats, her bladder long since emptied on the wooden floor.
Sleeping relieved her temporarily from her fear. Then she awakened to more pounding. At first she thought it was the measures beating again in her head, but someone was knocking on the panel. Steady taps.
She pressed her ear to the wood, listened for the voices of men.
Someone knocked again, five times in a row.
The signal for her to slip safely back outside.
Still she didn’t unlock the panel. She was safe in this locked shell, or at least as safe as she could be inside a wall. What if the men were trying to trick her? They could be waiting for her on the other side.
Five taps again, slow and deliberate. And then she heard someone call her name.
Luzi tentatively slid back the bolt that held the panel in place, peeking through the crack until she saw Hermann. Relief surged through his eyes, but there was no smile on his face. She crawled out quickly, embarrassed at the stench.
She pushed her wet hair back, and he helped her stand. Her legs wobbled from the cramping in her muscles, but she was no longer focused on herself. The library around her—books scattered across the floor, lamps lying on their sides, one of the windows broken. It looked like her apartment in Vienna, the night they took her father away.
Her eyes wide, she turned to Hermann. “What happened?”
“The Gestapo came.”
“They were looking for me,” she whispered.
He nodded slowly.
“But they didn’t find my hiding place.” She stepped forward. “Annika?”
