Ans was preparing to leave to fetch a new batch of stolen ration cards a few days later when she noticed that Eloise hadn’t joined the others for breakfast. The professor had left earlier for his job at the bank, so Ans went looking for her. She found her sitting in her sumptuous bedroom, rocking in place and staring out the window. Ans had seen Eloise this way before and knew it meant the beginning of a downward spiral into depression. Ans crossed the room and knelt on the floor beside her. “Talk to me, Eloise.”

She didn’t reply.

“I know you must be tired after working so hard to get everyone settled. They’re going to be safe here. Max is able to do his work, and it’s going to make a difference in so many people’s lives. You’re doing it, Eloise. You’re fighting back like you wanted to do.”

Eloise still didn’t reply as she rocked in place, her elegant hands clenched into fists.

“Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“We’re losing the war,” she said, still gazing through the window.

“No, we’re not. The Americans have joined the Allies, like they did in the first war.”

“I’m going to lose everyone I love again. Miriam and Avi and their baby . . . they’re gone. They were like family to me, and they’re gone.”

“Eloise, listen —”

“You need to leave me too. Aren’t you supposed to go meet your contact now?”

“Yes, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. And I’ll be safe.” Even as she said the words, Ans knew she was making a promise she couldn’t keep. “Why don’t you take some of your medicine before I go?” Ans hated to suggest it, knowing that the drug would put Eloise to sleep and cause the brilliant, vibrant, animated woman she knew and loved to disappear. But at least she wouldn’t harm herself.

“Yes . . . perhaps I should take it now. I would like to go to sleep.” And never wake up. Eloise didn’t say the words, but Ans knew she was thinking them.

CHAPTER 36

MARCH 1943

The doll had been an extravagance, but well worth it. “Oh, Mama! Pretty!” Bep had exclaimed when she’d torn away the wrappings to see her birthday present. “Look, Papa! Look, Opa!” She circled the kitchen table showing off her doll and collecting birthday kisses along the way.