Three days later, victory in Europe was declared. The Nazis had surrendered. When the trains started running again, Meta and Sientje decided to return to Amsterdam to search for their families. Ans stood with them on the windy train platform to say goodbye. “The Nazis confiscated everything we owned before we went into hiding,” Meta said. “We need to start the process of getting everything back.”

“You’ve shown such courage,” Ans said as she hugged them. “Professor Huizenga will be so grateful to you for helping Eloise when he couldn’t be here.”

“The Huizengas saved our lives. We’re family now.”

Eloise had excused herself from going to the train station, saying she hated goodbyes. Ans found her sitting alone by the window in her ravaged bedroom when she returned. “Did the ladies get off all right?” Eloise asked.

Ans sat down on the floor beside her, leaning against the frameless bed. “Yes. I was sorry to see them go. But they promised to visit.”

“You need to go home to your family, Ans. They must be so worried about you.” Ans had tried in vain to reach the farm by telephone. The nation was still in chaos after the liberation, and apparently telephone service hadn’t been restored to the village. She’d posted a letter, but who knew when it would arrive.

“I’m not leaving you, Eloise.”

Two of the families from the bank had also moved out, and with each goodbye, Eloise had begun the long, slow journey into melancholy like a cart rolling downhill, picking up speed as it went. Ans was reminded of how they’d waited to hear from Professor Huizenga in the hours after the Nazi invasion. She hadn’t known then how best to help her, but experience had taught Ans ways to block Eloise’s descent and keep her from crashing at the bottom.

“I’m going to volunteer with the Red Cross here in Leiden,” Ans told her the morning after Meta and Sientje left for Amsterdam. They were sitting in the kitchen, eating tasteless porridge. “Come with me, Eloise. They could use all the help they can get.” A plea for help had appeared in the newspaper, now free from Nazi control. There had also been articles and photographs detailing the Nazi atrocities in the concentration camps. She and Eloise had both wept when they’d seen them. Surely it couldn’t be true. How could such things happen in a civilized world? Miriam and Avi and Professor Jacobs were on their minds and in their hearts.

“I don’t think I would be much help to the Red Cross,” Eloise replied. “I was trained as a journalist, not a nurse.”