What would this man, half-drunk, need to show him so late at night? Max glanced at Annika in the dim glow of the flashlight, but she kept her distance as they followed Herr Knopf to the cottage. Anger boiled inside Max at the fear—that he was afraid of his father and Annika was afraid of hers.
He may not be able to challenge his own father, but one day he would be master of this estate. And when he was, he would release Herr Knopf to the wild like he’d released the canary, and keep Annika to care for the property. If she’d stay.
“Inside, Annika.” Herr Knopf held open the cottage door, and she stepped through it, her father lumbering close behind. The canary sung out in the darkness above Max, and seconds later the cottage door banged open again. Herr Knopf stumbled back outside.
“I know your secret,” the man said.
Max struggled for his next breath. Everything would be ruined if Herr Knopf found out about the burial ground. The man would dig up all the heirlooms, Max feared, and sell them off. Or he would tell Herr Dornbach what Max had done.
His father might fight for his wife, but if he found out what Max was doing, he’d turn his only son in to the Gestapo.
“What secret?” he asked, much more strongly than he felt.
Herr Knopf held up a chain and dangled it in front of Max, the gold reflecting in the light.
Anger roared inside Max again, spilling out. “That’s not yours.”
“Annika found it.”
“Vati!” Annika exclaimed as she stepped out behind him, her eyes wide. Had she been digging in the old cemetery while he was gone? Perhaps he shouldn’t have trusted her with his secret.
He would recover the rest of the items in the ground and hide them someplace else.
Herr Knopf motioned toward his daughter. “Tell him where you found it.”
Max shook his head. “It’s not nec—”
Herr Knopf interrupted him. “She found it in one of your mother’s shoe boxes.”
“You stole it?” he asked Annika. But even as he said those words, relief washed over him. His secret—the secret he’d shared with the girl in front of him—was still safe.
“I’d never steal from you!”
“Itook it,” Herr Knopf said with a disconcerting pride.
Max leaned closer, his hand outstretched until the pendant on the end settled into it. The golden star was like the ones Herr Weiss had given to him. AMagen David.
Perhaps his mother was helping their Jewish friends hide things as well.
Herr Knopf rolled his shoulders back. “I suspected it all along.”
“Suspected what?” Max began to close his fingers around the necklace, but Herr Knopf snatched it away.
Herr Knopf reached for Annika’s arm and yanked her back toward the door. “Ask your mother.”
CHAPTER 19
“Story Girl!”
Ella Nemeth races toward me. I’m standing on a stool instead of reading from one, placing a boxful of new arrivals in their proper place.
As I climb down, Ella twirls to display the pink ribbon around her ponytail, then motions toward a couple in their sixties standing near the door behind her.
The man is dressed in neatly pressed khaki shorts with a button-down shirt, his brown hair graying at the temples. The woman beside him has on a paisley sundress, the hem nearly reaching her tan-colored sandals. Her copper hair is clipped short, her nose the same shade as her hair, as if she’s plagued by a cold.
The woman sneezes into the crook of her arm, confirming my thoughts.
“Who are these fine people?” I ask as Ella reaches for my hand, tugging me toward them.
