She was almost home, with Bep riding on the handlebars and Maaike on the rear fender, when she saw a Nazi soldier standing in the middle of the road. She slowed. He stood alone, without a vehicle, gazing at the new spring grass in her pasture. The sight of her enemy so close to her home filled Lena with a hatred too deep to contain. Every Nazi she encountered, including this one, might be the one who’d killed her father.

Maaike saw him too and said, “Mama, stop! Turn around! We need to get away from him! Hurry!”

Lena braked to a halt, wondering if she should turn around.

“Who is that, Mama?” Bep asked.

“It’s a Nazi!” Maaike hissed.

The soldier faced away from them about twenty yards distant. He hadn’t noticed they were behind him yet. Lena’s heart raced as she debated how to get her daughters around him safely. The fields were too wet to cut across, especially with the bicycle, and besides, he would still see them. She was too weary to cycle all the way back into town. Should she pedal quickly past him? Who knew what he would do? Shoot at them? She helped the girls off the bicycle and gave it to Maaike to hold. “Stay here,” she said. “If I wave at you, get on it and pedal home with Bep as fast as you can, understand?”

“Mama, no! What are you going to do?”

“I’m just going to see what he wants. I’m counting on you to be brave, Maaike.”

“I’m scared!”

“I know. I am too. But what do we always do when we’re afraid?”

“Pray,” she whispered.

“Good girl.” Lena walked toward the man, her rage building with every step. She couldn’t imagine what he was doing here, but she wouldn’t let her enemies take one more thing from her. If only she had a weapon. She would kill him as swiftly and ruthlessly as one of them had killed her father. This soldier didn’t deserve to live. None of them did. “What do you want?” she shouted as her hatred overflowed. He turned as if startled and gazed at her in surprise. “You’re on my property! The town is that way,” she said, pointing. He would see her daughters cowering in the road.

He lifted his hands, palms out. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand Dutch.”

“Why are you here on my farm?” she shouted, speaking Dutch anyway. “Why are you in my country? You’ve taken nearly everything I have and everyone I love! Can’t you see how much we hate you?”