“Where is she?”

“She went back to bed today. And she’s been crying a lot, grieving the loss of her work with the newspaper, now that our radio is gone.” The professor started past Ans toward the stairs, but she stopped him. “Eloise seems to be slipping into melancholy again,” she told him. “I wondered . . .” Ans was afraid to overstep her place by voicing her thoughts, but she was desperate to help her friend. “I noticed that Eloise is always stronger when she’s doing something to fight back. And I know she fears losing me now that I’m traveling so often. So I wondered . . . what if she came with me on some of my trips? We could visit an art gallery or attend a concert in Amsterdam like we used to do, and it would provide an excuse for my travels.”

He moved closer, speaking low. “It’s much too dangerous. I want Eloise home, where she’s safe.”

“But she isn’t safe when she’s so despondent. You said yourself that she might harm herself. Remember how happy Eloise was when she and I used to go out and do normal things?”

“It upsets her to see the Nazis everywhere. No, Ans, I can’t —”

“One of the things I’ve been asked to do is to document enemy installations as I travel —equipment and military personnel and things like that. The reports make their way to the Allies so they can plan their bombing raids. The Resistance could use Eloise’s skills of observation. She sees details that I easily miss. And she would be fighting back in a very direct way.”

“I’ll need to think about it.”

She saw his reluctance and fear. “She needs something to do, Professor. Please, let her come to Amsterdam with me tomorrow. I know how much you love her and that you want to protect her. Forgive me for being too blunt, but if you hang on to Eloise too tightly, you could end up losing her in the end.” When he didn’t reply, she let him pass. He would see for himself how low his wife’s spirits were. Surely he would want her to return to normal as badly as Ans did.

Neither he nor Eloise joined the others for dinner. Meta carried a tray up to their room. There was very little to do with the radio gone, so Ans went to her room early. The professor knocked on her bedroom door later that evening. He looked worried and tense, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, his brow furrowed.