And Luzia Weiss... the name in Charlotte’s book.
My heart races again. Charlotte thought her birth name was Luzia, but clearly this woman was born years before 1938.
Is it possible that Luzia Weiss was her mother?
Stunned, I read the name again, afraid that I might have mistaken the spelling, but the caption is identical to the name written in the book about Hatschi Bratschi.
Charlotte was adopted from an orphanage in France, not Austria, and yet...
I surf online for Luzia Weiss and Luzia Dornbach in both Vienna and Idaho, but nothing comes up. Then I search for Maximilian Dornbach in Idaho.
This time an obituary fills my screen.
Max Dornbach. Veterinarian. Resident of Sandpoint. Winner of the AVMA Animal Welfare Award. Father of two children. Husband of Renee Dornbach for almost fifty years.
A hundred questions spring into my mind for Liberty—Liberty Dornbach, I assume. I try to call her back, but she doesn’t answer.
Why is the picture of Max and Luzia in the back of Annika’s book? Did Max know about her list?
And most important to me at the moment, what happened to the woman in Max Dornbach’s arms?
CHAPTER 20
LAKE HALLSTATT, AUSTRIA
AUGUST 1938
Max collapsed onto a chair in the ancient entry hall, the faint strains of music sprinkling down from the second floor of the Schloss. Herr Knopf had refused to return the necklace to him even though Annika had found it in Frau Dornbach’s room. He didn’t blame Annika for being curious, but her father... It was thievery, taking something from one’s employer.
Herr Knopf didn’t seem to care when Max called him a thief. Collateral, that’s what the man had said.
But collateral for what?
Herr Knopf had shaken his head, refusing to answer the question. Max’s mother could probably answer it, but he wasn’t entirelysure that he wanted to know why Herr Knopf had been smirking when he delivered that news. Had he discovered that Klara Dornbach was helping the Jewish people as well?
A door creaked farther down the corridor, and his mother emerged into the foyer, flipping the switch that powered their chandelier light.
“Why are you still awake?” she asked, a porcelain cup nestled in her palm. The steam from chamomile tea billowed into a cloud around her dark hair, hanging loose over the shoulders of her robe. Her face was scrubbed clean of rouge and the burgundy-colored lipstick she usually wore.
“Herr Knopf wanted to speak with me,” he said.
“Whatever could Emil need at this hour?”
Max closed his eyes, a dull ache creeping up the back of his neck, shooting pain through his head.
He’d lost track of the hours since they’d arrived from Vienna. Was it three in the morning now? Later even? Neither of them would have much rest tonight.
“Herr Knopf found a necklace in your room.”
She slid into a chair beside him, across from the grand stone fireplace that lay dormant in the summer months.
“With a Star of David.”
She stared at him, dumbfounded, and then the shock of the find began to slowly register in her eyes. “It was hidden away....”
“Not anymore.”
His mother’s gaze trailed up the carpeted steps to the first floor of their home. “He was rummaging through my things.”
