Lena resumed knitting as the Radio Orange broadcast began. A moment later, she stilled with news of a special bulletin. “Early yesterday morning, at 7:48 a.m. on the Pacific islands of Hawaii, the Japanese launched a surprise attack on the United States’ naval base in Pearl Harbor. The US fleet suffered the loss of its eight battleships anchored there. One hundred and eighty-eight US aircraft were also destroyed in the raid. The loss of life is expected to reach nearly 2,500. In response to this unprovoked attack, the United States has now declared war on Japan.”

“This is overwhelming,” Lena breathed.

Pieter stared at the radio as if waiting to hear it was a joke or a mistake. As the announcer repeated the news bulletin, he looked up at Lena, raking his hand through his thick blond hair. “America is in the fight. They have the resources and manpower to help us win. Remember the first war? Finally there’s hope.”

“Will the Americans help us beat the Nazis?” Wim asked. He had stopped carving, his brow furrowed like his father’s.

Pieter rested his hand on Wim’s shoulder. “Ja, they’ll help us.”

Lena didn’t know whether to feel relieved or horrified by the news. She barely heard the rest of the broadcast, her knitting forgotten as she tried to comprehend this triumph of evil on the other side of the world. The escalation and scope of the war made it seem like something from the biblical book of Revelation. How could God stand by and remain silent?

Pieter switched off the radio when the program ended, returning Lena’s thoughts to her kitchen and her family. “Off to bed with you two,” she said. “School tomorrow.”

Wim shaved a few more slivers from his creation before laying it aside with a sigh and thumping up the wooden steps to his bedroom.

“But my painting isn’t finished,” Maaike complained.

“You can finish it tomorrow after school. Close up the paints so they don’t dry out.” Lena swept up the shavings from Wim’s carving project and fed them into the fire.

“I’ll be up at the windmill,” Pieter said. Lena nodded. She would join him when the children were asleep. She followed Maaike upstairs and helped her get ready for bed. Her room beneath the eaves was warm from the kitchen stove, but by morning, Maaike would be burrowed beneath her comforter. She and Ans had shared this bed, and both Maaike and Lena felt her absence nearly every night.

“Is Ans coming home for Christmas?” Maaike asked as Lena loosened her braid and brushed her golden hair.

“I’m not sure. Let’s hope so.” Lena listened as Maaike knelt by her bed to say her prayers, then tucked her into bed. It wouldn’t take her long to fall asleep. Lena peeked into Wim’s loft afterwards. “Did you say your prayers?” she asked.