On a warm day in March, Miriam looked at the calendar and realized that it was Elisheva’s birthday. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she tried to picture her daughter as a curious three-year-old, smiling Avi’s beautiful smile, skipping with childish delight the way Rietje did, wearing her shining dark hair in two braids down her back the way Miriam wore hers when she was a girl in Cologne. Her precious baby was another year older. And another year removed from any memory of the father and mother who loved her more than life itself.

“Happy birthday, Elisheva,” she whispered. “Happy birthday, my darling girl . . .”

CHAPTER 41

MAY 1944

The apartment in Zoeterwoude, a few miles south of Leiden, was in Ans’s territory. She delivered ration cards every month for the people who were hiding there —more than twenty Jews, at last count, including several small children. “The woman who rents the apartment is putting herself and all of those people in great danger,” one of Ans’s contacts told her. “That apartment is so overcrowded it’s certain to draw the attention of her neighbors, especially with so many children living there with an unmarried woman.”

“I tell her that every time I deliver her ration cards,” Ans replied.

“When you make your next delivery, you must convince the families to separate for everyone’s safety. Tell her we know farmers in the countryside who are willing to take small children but not entire families.”

Ans’s overused bicycle was in need of repairs again, so she walked to the Leiden train station with the hidden ration cards, prepared to make her warnings stern and convincing this time. She was in line to purchase her train ticket when she heard someone calling her name. She turned and saw Erik hurrying toward her. She stepped out of line, smiling as she watched him approach.

“I’m glad I caught you,” he said after kissing her cheeks. She wished she could give him a real kiss, but the train station was a public place. Besides, she sensed that something was wrong. Erik was panting as if he’d run a long distance, and he still wore his uniform. He’d been on the night shift again, arresting curfew breakers, and must have come here right after finishing work.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He didn’t reply as he took her hand and led her out of the station. He stopped at a herring cart just outside. “What kind do you want?” he asked, pointing to the fish.

Ans didn’t want any, her stomach drawn into a tight knot by Erik’s unusual behavior. But she made her choice and waited for Erik to order and pay the vendor. He led her off to one side while they ate, his gaze alert and watchful.

“What’s going on, Erik?” she asked after swallowing a few bites. “How did you know I would be here?”