He kissed her cheek again. “I am one of them.”

She watched Havik go, then walked back to the town house to tell her friends the hopeful, heartbreaking news.

CHAPTER 30

Miriam stood on a wobbling board in the center of the airless attic, as far as she could get from the walls of the adjoining town houses, and drew her bow across the strings of her violin. Avi had fashioned a mute that fit over the bridge of her instrument to help dampen the sound, but she still worried every time she played. But she had to play. The sound soothed Elisheva to sleep, and it helped Miriam feel alive and whole.

Elisheva was asleep on a blanket beside Avi, wearing only her diaper as he fanned her to cool the air. He loved hearing Miriam play too. Her music had drawn them together in the refugee camp and had comforted them along with the psalms Avi read aloud. He read sorrow-filled ones now, laments that asked the Almighty One Why? and How long? This afternoon, as they waited for Ans to return from her meeting with a Resistance contact, they had used a psalm as a prayer: “Have mercy on me, my God, have mercy on me, for in you I take refuge. I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings until the disaster has passed.”

Miriam played Tchaikovsky’s haunting theme, still grieving for Abba. “Why wouldn’t he come with us?” she asked again and again.

“He couldn’t have endured this,” Avi explained after the Gestapo returned for yet another surprise raid. “He didn’t want to ruin our chances for survival. I think your mother knew the same thing. I think that’s why she didn’t leave Cologne with you.”

The air in the stifling attic made it difficult to breathe. She and Avi lived up here all the time now. The Gestapo came at random times, each unannounced visit heart-stopping. Professor Huizenga had installed a buzzer near the front door that rang in the attic to warn them when they needed to hide. So far, the heavy pounding on the door alerted them, but what if the Nazis decided to knock softly and catch them by surprise? Or if a nosy neighbor came?

Miriam couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept soundly or had gone outside in the daylight and fresh air. How lovely it would be to walk along the canals again and sit beneath the trees. And how lovely it would be to feel warm sunlight on her face again. But Miriam and Avi were too frightened to even sit outside in the tiny backyard after dark, fearing the neighbors would see them, fearing the Gestapo would return. If they kept the attic window open, they could sometimes glimpse stars through the canopy of trees at night.