With the stove rekindled, Ans measured water and oats and put a pot of porridge on to cook. Eloise had bartered a pair of emerald earrings for the sack of oats, once intended for horses. The butchered animals wouldn’t need it. “Was it only four years ago,” Eloise had asked at last evening’s meal, “when we all ate as much as we wanted? How times have changed when these few morsels make us happy!” They had divided four eggs and four slices of bread among twelve people —and shared each leftover crumb, as well. As sparse as the meal had been, they had bowed their heads and thanked God for it. Thousands of their countrymen had starved to death. There was no wood for coffins, no men to dig graves.

The aroma of cooking porridge awakened the others. Eloise and Meta were spooning it into bowls when the doorbell rang. Ans hurried to answer it and was surprised to see Erik, home from wherever the Nazis had sent him. “You’re back! Do you want to come in?” She longed to embrace him but hesitated. He looked troubled and wasn’t smiling.

“Can you come for a walk with me? I need to ask you something.”

“Of course. Let me tell Eloise where I’m going.” Ans was already wearing her coat and needed only to put on a hat and mittens to be ready. They started toward the park, and she knew something was wrong when he didn’t reach for her hand or wrap his arm around her shoulders. She made him halt before reaching the bridge. “Erik, tell me what’s wrong.”

He stared down at the ground for a long moment, then glanced all around before looking at her. “I don’t want to do the Nazis’ dirty work anymore.” He kept his voice low as if afraid of being overheard. “Can you . . . ? Will you help me go into hiding? You told me once that you knew people —the ones who helped your Jewish friends disappear. I want to disappear too.”

For a terrible, interminable moment, Ans couldn’t reply. As her heart raced out of control, she was horrified to realize that she didn’t know whether to trust him or not. This was Erik, the man she loved, asking her for help. Yet the Resistance had warned her to trust no one. She remembered the young woman she’d suspected of being planted in her jail cell. Traitors were paid well for helping the Nazis. But then she pushed all those thoughts aside. Erik loved her, and she loved him. Why did she hesitate?