“No. But I do have good news. Allied troops are in Holland. Canadian tanks have liberated many of our cities. Here’s the latest newspaper.” He pulled the flimsy underground newssheet from his pocket and handed it to Lena. She glanced at it, then instinctively rolled it up so it would fit inside her bicycle frame. She would hide it there from the Nazis when she delivered it to her cousin in the village.

“But the Allies haven’t come this far yet?” she asked.

“Soon. I came to tell you and the others that it won’t be long. Maybe even tomorrow.”

Two more shadows slipped into the kitchen as Lena and Wolf talked. They left their hiding places only at night and disappeared before dawn. How they must long to feel the sun on their faces again.

“This isn’t another false alarm like last fall, is it?” one of the shadows whispered. Lena remembered “Mad Tuesday,” when rumors of liberation had swept the country. There had been panic among the Nazis and rejoicing among the Dutch people. Many Nazi occupiers and their collaborators had fled east. When it proved to be a false alarm, they returned. Hope withered.

“This time it’s true,” Wolf said. “I saw the Canadian tanks myself.”

Lena closed her eyes for a moment. Would the waiting truly be over?

“How will we know when it’s safe to come out?” the other shadow asked.

“They’ll ring the church bells in town. I have to go,” Wolf said, backing toward the door. “I need to tell the others.”

“Wait,” Lena said. “Are you hungry? Have you eaten?” Wolf was shadow-thin. The deep hollows on the planes of his face made him appear skeletal in the darkness. Thousands of people who were trapped in the cities were dying of starvation every day. Cities like Leiden, where Lena’s daughter Ans lived.

“You already have so many mouths to feed,” Wolf said.

“Then one more won’t make a difference.” She opened the warming oven above the stove and pulled out a baked potato, wrapped in a cloth to keep it warm, and pushed it into his hands. “I only wish I had more to offer you.” The potato was small and shriveled, one of the last few from her depleted root cellar. “Thank you for coming, Wolf. I’ll spread the news.” He had given Lena hope. And hope would make waiting harder still.

She sat down at the kitchen table with the shadow people after Wolf left, talking about the war and reading the underground newspaper to them while they each ate a potato and some boiled cabbage. She knew only their false names —Max and his wife, Ina —and that they were Jewish. Max forged false ID cards for the Resistance during the night, down in Lena’s root cellar.