She wanted to keep going, pretending she hadn’t heard. But she recognized the voice. The Van Dams lived in the house she’d just passed. Corrie van Dam had been her best friend in school. It would seem suspicious if she didn’t say hello. She turned to Mrs. Van Dam, who was sweeping her front stoop in the fading twilight.

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Van Dam.”

“I thought that was you! We haven’t seen you in ages! How are you, Ans? Corrie was just saying the other day how much she missed her best friend.”

The bag and the baby were growing heavy. Ans set down the suitcase and shifted Elisheva to her other arm. “It’s been a while since I’ve been home. I work in Leiden now.”

“Is this your baby? Your mother never told us you’d married.”

“No, she isn’t mine,” Ans replied, trying her best to laugh. “Her mother died, and her father can’t take care of her. We’re hoping the fresh air on the farm will do her good.”

“She’s a relative of yours?”

Her heart thumped faster. She mustn’t get trapped in a web of lies. Everyone in the village knew Mama and Papa and their relatives. “The baby’s parents were friends of mine. I’m sorry, but I really can’t talk right now, Mrs. Van Dam. I need to get out to the farm before curfew.”

“I’ll tell Corrie you’re home. I know she’d love to see you.”

“Yes. It’s been ages.”

Ans picked up the suitcase and hurried across the market square to the manse. As she neared the front door, she saw lights on behind the curtains and what looked like several people moving around inside. She set the suitcase down and shifted the baby to her shoulder. Opa had guests, and she needed to avoid meeting them. She was about to walk around to the back when the front door opened and one of the church elders stepped outside. He saw her before she had a chance to turn away.

“Hello, Ans. I didn’t know you were back in town.”

Her composure nearly shattered. He was one of the most unbending men in the church and had let his disapproval of Ans and her wayward behavior be known in the past. “I just arrived on the evening train.” Her cheeks burned as if on fire. “I’m hoping Opa will drive me out to the farm before curfew.”

“Is that your baby?”

“No, her mother died, and her father isn’t able to care for her. He thought our farm would be a good place for her until he can.”