“Here it is,” she said, handing the card to him. Her heart raced faster as Erik studied it, wondering if he’d been trained to spot a fake. Miriam and Avi were making plans to escape with false identity cards.

Erik stared at the flower on her lapel as he handed it back. She’d pinned it there so her contact could identify her. Erik knew she didn’t wear flowers. “Open your bag for me, please.” She did, watching his face as he poked around inside. A trickle of sweat ran down his temple. He was in as much danger as she was. Her bag contained physics textbooks borrowed from Professor Huizenga so she could pose as a student. Erik would know they weren’t hers. The newspapers that were sewn inside the lining called for active resistance and exposed the Nazis’ propaganda. They also reported the latest news from the battlefront, news that the Nazi-controlled papers wouldn’t report.

Erik suddenly looked up at her in alarm. Their gazes locked, then Ans looked down at what he’d seen. The weight of the textbooks had torn some of the stitching loose. The masthead on one of the newspapers was clearly visible behind the tear.

Time stood still.

Then Erik cleared his throat and said, “You may go.” With those three words, he broke the law for her. He’d placed himself in danger. For her.

Her train to Den Haag rumbled into the Leiden station, shaking the platform. The doors opened, and she boarded on legs barely able to carry her. She stood in the aisle for the entire ride, unable to find a seat in the crowded car, gripping the strap as the train sped up and slowed down, stopping in towns along the way. She was so nauseated she feared she might be sick. Ans had been delivering the underground newspaper for months, but this was her first close call. She would have to warn everyone to be more careful.

At last, the train reached Den Haag. Ans stepped onto the platform, waiting for her contact to spot the flower on her jacket. Within minutes, a young man carrying an identical bag approached and greeted her like an old friend, kissing her cheeks. He chatted as he led her to a café near the train station, talking about the weather and how crowded the trains were these days. Ans knew the routine and had done this before with other contacts in other places. But he must have noticed that she was upset.

“Did you have a close call?” he asked after they were seated at a small table near the window.

Ans nodded. “They check ID cards and bags now. But I’m okay . . . I mean . . . I will be okay in a minute.”

He leaned across the table. “Go ahead and cry if you need to. We’ll pretend you’re giving me bad news.”