“Yes . . . but I haven’t heard from them since the Japanese overran the island.”

“Well, if you wish to see your home and your family, then you will need to think harder about cooperating with me. Do you understand?”

She nodded, not daring to move away from him. Her heart beat faster when he yanked open the door and called for a guard.

Please, Lord . . .

She was very surprised when the guard led her back to her cell and pushed her inside. She slumped onto the floor, covering her face with her hands, weeping with relief. She silently thanked God for the memorized words that had come to mind, giving her peace when she’d needed it. Erik had saved her life again, this time with stories of his homeland.

“What happened? Did they rough you up?”

Ans looked up to see who’d spoken. A new woman her own age had been assigned to the overcrowded cell while she’d been gone, replacing the middle-aged woman accused of selling meat on the black market.

“I haven’t had my hearing yet,” the stranger said. “Tell me what they did so I can be ready for them.”

“They accused me of lying, but I’m telling the truth. My bicycle was stolen and I was late for curfew —that’s all!”

The young woman sat down beside her as if they were old friends. “I hear they torture you until you tell the truth.”

“It is the truth!” Ans had been warned back in Leiden not to befriend anyone if she was ever arrested because the Nazis often planted spies in prison cells. This friendly woman’s abrupt arrival made Ans suspicious. She’d spoken only superficially with the other women sharing her cell, but they all had a core of tensely coiled fear that this talkative one lacked.

“My name’s Trix. What’s yours?”

“Bernandina . . . but if you don’t mind, I don’t feel much like talking right now.”

“You might feel better if you told me all your troubles and had a good cry —”

“Shut up and leave her alone,” one of the others said. Ans looked up at her gratefully. The nosy cellmate retreated.

The guard returned for Ans the next day, leading her through the labyrinthine hallways until she stood before a Nazi judge for her hearing. The fox-faced Gestapo officer was her accuser. “This is your last chance to tell the truth so I can help you,” he told Ans.

“But I did tell you the truth.”

The judge beckoned for the officer to come forward to speak privately in German. “I think she’s a courier for the Resistance, but I have no proof,” the officer told the judge. “She claims to be a farm maid, but she seems too bright and well-spoken.”