“Do you think the Nazis will forbid them to get married?” Eloise asked.

Miriam drew a quick breath. Abba believed the persecution would begin all over again, here in the Netherlands. Avi reached for her hand, squeezing it to reassure her.

“I’m not saying that,” Ans replied. “As far as I know, the Dutch clerks working in all the public offices are still doing what they’ve always done.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I . . . I’m worried that it will upset you to see the enemy occupying Leiden.”

“Don’t coddle me, Ans. You’re as bad as Herman.” Eloise glared at Ans.

Miriam wasn’t used to seeing tension between the two women. Yet she’d noticed how fragile Eloise was and knew Ans was wise to discourage her from witnessing the Nazi takeover.

“Eloise, there is something else you can help us with,” Miriam said. “Avi escaped with only the clothes on his back. He’s going to need clothes and shoes.”

“It would attract too much attention if I had carried a suitcase,” he added.

Eloise seemed to size him up. “You’re not as tall as Herman, but my seamstress can do wonders with sewing needles and scissors.” Eloise became animated again, and Miriam knew she would pour her breathless energy into helping Avi. “Naturally, you must be married in a suit. And I’ll look after the rest of your wardrobe, too, so don’t worry about a thing.”

“How can we ever thank you?” Miriam asked. “You’ve done so much already, and —”

“And you, my lovely Miriam, deserve to be wed in silks and lace. Let me see what I have that might suit you. Ans, call my seamstress straightaway. Her number is in my address book.”

The paperwork required more than a week to process, then Miriam and Avi were married in a civil ceremony in the registry office with Abba and Ans as their witnesses. That afternoon, Miriam stood beneath a chuppah in the synagogue with the man she loved, reciting their marriage vows in a quiet ceremony. They invited Ans and Eloise and Professor Huizenga, along with Mrs. Spielman and some of Abba’s colleagues and friends from the synagogue. Eloise’s dressmaker had altered a beautiful peach-colored silk dress and matching jacket for Miriam to wear, and a dark suit for Avi.

“You look beautiful,” Abba said with tears in his eyes. “As beautiful as your mother. If only she could be here with us.” Before leaving for the ceremony, Miriam had paged through her photograph album with Abba, remembering their loved ones. Their absence tempered Miriam’s joy. She and Avi should be surrounded by family and friends, dancing with them in a joyous circle as they celebrated.