“Does that mean the Nazis will go away now?” Maaike asked.

“Yes, they’ll be gone for good. The Netherlands will be free again!” She couldn’t imagine it. Lena wondered if Maaike even remembered a time when Nazi soldiers on roaring motorcycles weren’t a common sight. She’d been six years old when they’d invaded the Netherlands. Little Bep had never known freedom at all.

Lena picked up her pace as she pedaled the last mile into town. The village square and the street in front of her father’s church were packed with people as if it were Easter Sunday. The church bells clamored so loudly they could probably be heard all the way out to the farm. Lena’s friends and neighbors were laughing and embracing each other, their faces streaming with tears. Her cousin Truus pushed through the crowd and hugged Lena tightly, the milk cans clanking as the women rocked in place. “Isn’t it wonderful, Lena? We’re free! The Nazis are gone at last!”

“And look at all these people who must have been hidden,” Lena said when Truus released her again. Crowded among the people she knew were strangers Lena had never seen before. Their milk-white skin and haunted faces told her they were shadow people. “I had no idea so many of them were hiding right here in the village!”

“And do you notice who isn’t here?” her cousin asked. “The filthy collaborators have all fled.”

“What a relief.” Lena wondered if they would face justice for what they’d done. They had much to account for. Lena had known these villagers all her life, had worshiped beside them in church every Sunday, and she knew that the war had brought tragedy into every life, every home. She watched them cheering and hugging each other and asking, “Is it really over? Are they finally gone?” One of the church elders burst into song, and everyone joined in singing the words to the psalm:

“O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come,

Our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home.”

Lena gripped Bep’s hand and wiped tears as she sang. If only Pieter and Papa were here to see this. She needed to hurry home and tell her own shadow people the good news. Max and Ina could come out from behind the piano. The onderduikers could go home to their families. Maybe Pieter and Ans and Wim were on their way home right now.

She traded the milk for some cheese and a loaf of bread. “You can carry these for me on the way home,” she told her daughters. “There’s no need to hide them anymore.” Joy and hope warmed her like spring sunshine as she pedaled. The fields looked greener now than they had on the way into town.