Erik came to the town house the day after Ans returned home, looking as handsome as ever, yet in some ways older and more hardened. His wheat-colored hair had been shorn when he first joined the army, but it had grown back while he’d been a prisoner and was as thick and tousled-looking as before. She had almost forgotten how wonderful it was to feel his arms around her and to enjoy his soft kisses when they were alone. She reveled in the knowledge that she belonged to him, that he was watching out for her as they walked hand in hand, passing the ever-present Nazi soldiers.

Ans knew her parents belonged together; Professor Huizenga and Eloise seemed made for each other; Miriam seemed more whole and fully herself now that Avraham was beside her. And with every moment that Ans spent with Erik, she grew more and more convinced that he was the perfect partner for her, and she for him. They balanced each other —she the impulsive and adventurous one, he steady and cautious. His letters had revealed so much more about him as he’d talked about his childhood in Java and what he thought about the war and what his hopes and dreams were for the future. Ans was thrilled to read that he included her in those dreams.

They sat side by side on a bench, their hands entwined, watching a pair of swans in the canal. “What’s next for you, Erik?”

“They said my job on the police force is waiting if I want it back.”

“I could never work for the Nazis. They disgust me.”

“Ans . . . shh . . . ,” he whispered, looking all around. “You can get into a lot of trouble for talking like that.”

There were other people in the park, couples reunited, strolling the paths, watching the swans and ducks on the Steenschuur. Ans lowered her voice for Erik’s sake. “Don’t you feel the same about them after the way they brutally attacked our country? How can you work for them?”

“I’m not working for them. I’m working for the people of Leiden. Protecting them. And you.” He glanced around again as if to see whether anyone was listening, then continued in a soft voice. “Isn’t it better for us to keep order and police our own streets instead of letting the Nazis do it? Because if we don’t, they will —and their policing will be brutal.”

“I believe you. But aren’t you afraid they’ll demand you take an oath to Hitler or the Reich?”

He looked away for a moment as if he couldn’t face her.

“What? Tell me, Erik.”

“There are rumors that we may need to become members of the NSB if we want to stay on the police force.”

“The Dutch Nazi Party? Oh, Erik!”