“Lord, this is necessary work,” Pieter began. “We need those cards to feed desperate people. Please protect us tonight, and if it’s Your will, please grant that all will go well and nobody will get hurt.” They ended by reciting the Lord’s Prayer together. Never before had the words “deliver us from evil” held so much meaning for Lena.

Her head whirled as she stood again. Pieter rarely showed affection in front of other people, but he pulled Lena close and kissed her forehead before leaving. “Be safe,” she whispered.

A gust of cold air entered as the door opened and closed behind the men, chilling her. She doused the lamp to save kerosene, even though she knew she would be wide-awake until Pieter returned.

She went upstairs, checking to make sure the children were tucked in tightly beneath their covers. Wim had nearly outgrown his bed, and his stockinged feet stuck out from beneath his blanket. Maaike lay sprawled across the bed as usual, all arms and legs. Pieter had pushed her bed against the wall to keep Bep from falling out, and the little girl was pressed against it, still clutching her doll. Tears filled Lena’s eyes, blurring the room. “Lord . . . ,” she whispered. “Lord, please . . .” She had no other words.

She pulled a blanket from her bed and carried it downstairs to huddle beneath. The war had taught her to pray like never before, and she dropped to her knees beside the kitchen table while she waited.

Lena was still there several hours later when Pieter slipped in through the back door. She looked up at him, biting her lip as tears of relief fell down her cheeks. “You’re still awake?” he asked. He helped her to her feet and into his arms. His coat was cold and wet against her face.

“I’ve been dozing off and on,” she said. “And praying. Where are the others?”

“On their way home. All went well, Lena.”

She squeezed him tightly. “Thank God,” she murmured. She led the way upstairs, trying not to think about what Pieter might be asked to do the next time. And the next.

CHAPTER 37

Ans rode her bicycle across Leiden to the yellow-brick Bureau van Politie to meet Erik as soon as his shift ended. She waited outside, and her heart did a little dance when he walked through the door, looking so handsome in his uniform. “Did you hear the news?” she asked as they started walking toward his apartment. “They’re recalling all former Dutch soldiers, not just the officers.”

“Everyone heard. They’ll be sent to work in factories.”

“Will you be drafted too?”

“No, my work as a police officer is considered essential.” He took Ans’s bike, wheeling it down the street for her. “Maybe some of the newer police recruits will have to go, but I’ve been working for the bureau for nearly five years.”