“I’ve already told everyone about Bep’s parents,” she said in a tight voice. “Ans brought her here because she was friends with them. If that explanation isn’t enough . . . !” She was too furious to finish. She turned away from Truus and watched her children playing as she struggled to control her temper. Maaike was enraptured with Bep and was like a fussy little mother. Wim proudly stood guard, ignoring his friend who called to him to play. Should Lena defend her honor and pride with the truth and endanger this baby? Or was she willing to sacrifice her reputation to save a Jewish baby’s life? “People will believe whatever they choose to believe,” she finally said. “If they want to accuse my daughter, they should have the decency to do it to my face.”

Truus glanced all around as if someone might be listening, then lowered her voice again. “Lena, we’ve known each other all our lives. We’re family. You know I would never betray your secrets. You can trust me with the truth.”

Lena turned back to her. “Are you asking me if it’s true? You think Bep is Ans’s daughter?”

Truus shrugged as if to say, Yes, why not?

Lena hesitated. Bep would be safer if Truus and everyone else in town believed the rumor. The orphan story sounded too convenient and a bit suspicious. Yet Lena’s instinct was to protect Ans’s reputation. Yes, she’d been rebellious in earlier years, but Ans was strong and beautiful and kind and good. She’d risked her life to bring Bep here and to help her Jewish parents. She was risking her life every day by working with the Resistance. Ans would gladly sacrifice her reputation for this beautiful child. And as difficult as it would be, Lena knew she would have to sacrifice her own reputation as well. She would become the mother whose scandalous daughter had brought home an illegitimate baby for her to raise.

“You can’t tell anyone, Truus,” Lena said quietly.

Truus’s eyes grew wide. “So she is Ans’s baby?”

“Bep is our daughter now. Pieter and I will raise her as our own.”

Lena and Pieter were about to go upstairs to bed a week after Bep’s arrival when there was a soft knock on the kitchen door. They looked at each other. “Are you expecting anyone?” she whispered. Pieter shook his head. Lena scrambled to her feet and raced upstairs to make sure all the children were asleep. She heard the door squeal open, but she didn’t hear any voices. When she was certain that none of the children were awake, she crept downstairs again to the kitchen. Pieter was talking with a man, their voices so low she couldn’t hear what they were saying. One of the stairs creaked, and when Pieter saw her, he motioned for her to come closer.