The food that evening tasted wonderful to Miriam, the first she’d eaten in three days. She remembered the Sabbath dinners with Abba and Avi and how thankful and hopeful they’d felt as they’d recited the traditional blessings and prayers. Now Miriam knew this was the end for her. She would never see Avi and Elisheva again. If they survived, they would have no way of learning what had happened to her.

That night, after lights-out, Miriam sat up on her bunk, her head brushing the rafters, and took out her violin. It was the only thing that remained of herself and of the life she’d once lived, and she wanted to play it one last time. She played it muted at first, expecting people to shout at her to be quiet, but no one did. Instead, she heard murmured thanks and requests to play more. Miriam removed the mute and poured all of her sorrow into every note. She had the fleeting thought that if Avi were here, he would hear the Tchaikovsky violin concerto and know it was her. Yet she prayed that he wasn’t, that he was asleep somewhere safe. At last, she put the violin away and tried to sleep.

A voice in the dark asked her to play again the following night after lights-out. Miriam knew it would be the last chance she would ever have before tomorrow’s train carried her into the unknown, so she poured her heart and soul into the music once again. She was in the middle of the Brahms lullaby she used to play for Elisheva when the outside door burst open. A light shattered the darkness, shining all around until it spotted her on her bunk. Miriam shielded her eyes. There was no place to hide.

“Who are you?” a voice behind the light asked.

“Christina Bos.”

“Get your things and come with me.”

CHAPTER 50

Lena’s grief was bottomless. Not only was her father gone, but the brutality and senselessness of his death made it impossible to accept. She held tightly to Bep’s and Maaike’s hands as she watched men bury him beside her mother in the churchyard. Friends had offered to take the girls during the funeral, but Lena needed them beside her to remind her why she must remain strong. At three and a half, Bep didn’t know what had happened except that Opa had walked out of the church and hadn’t come back. Maaike wept inconsolably. She’d heard the shot that killed her grandfather. Now she had withdrawn into herself, no longer a happy ten-year-old. Lena didn’t know how to explain to Maaike why Opa had volunteered to die or why the soldiers would kill a man who had done nothing wrong. The world was upside down.