At ten o’clock the next morning, a man arrived at the front door carrying a medical bag. Ans showed him into the front room, where Miriam waited with Eloise. “Good morning, I’m Dr. Elzinga. And you must be Christina Bos.”

It took her a moment to react to her new name. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“I’m here to take you to a safe house, Christina. I’ve been allowed to keep my car, you see, so I can care for my patients. I can travel relatively freely.” Miriam heard his words but barely comprehended them. He pulled a folded white dress and cap from his bag and handed them to her. “This nurse’s uniform is for you. Go ahead and put it on. I’ll stay for a while as if I’m attending a patient, then we’ll leave together.”

The mumble of voices faded behind Miriam as she carried the uniform upstairs to change. It was too baggy, but she supposed it didn’t matter. The cap felt strange on her short hair. She fetched the suitcase she’d packed and ran her hand across the smooth wood of her violin case for a final time, as if caressing a loved one’s face. It would be ridiculous to bring the instrument into hiding.

She started to leave, then turned back, unable to leave her violin behind. It was the last piece of her life that still remained, and she would cling to it, whether she’d be able to play it or not. She dumped some of her clothing out of the suitcase and put in the bow and violin, wrapping a sweater around it to protect it.

“If people need to be moved, I’m often the one who transports them,” Dr. Elzinga was saying when Miriam returned to the parlor.

“We’re very willing to house new guests,” Eloise replied.

Miriam felt the slow thudding of her heart when it was time to say goodbye. Eloise hugged her fiercely. “I know I’ll see you again,” she said. “You’re a strong woman, dear Miriam.”

Ans was trying to be brave but couldn’t stop weeping. “You’ll be in my prayers every single day,” she said as she hugged her.

Miriam didn’t cry. Or perhaps she couldn’t cry. She felt strangely dead inside as she closed the door and walked away from the friends she loved. It seemed strange to be outside on a hot summer day, hearing sounds that had been muted in her attic shelter and feeling the sun on her skin. She resisted the urge to run to the doctor’s car for safety and looked back only once as they drove away, memorizing the house and the friends who lived there.