She’d been working her way through his textbooks for years, careful never to let him know, and not because she thought he’d disapprove. He’d always been so proud of her, and once he’d loved nothing more than to discuss her lessons and help with her schoolwork. But the racial laws of 1938 had expelled her and every other Jewish student in Italy from school, and when her father had told her of it, he had broken down and wept, and it was the first time Antonina had ever seen him cry. So she had decided that it would be far kinder to simply borrow his books and memorize as much as she could, and then, one day, when she was allowed to go to school again, she would be ready.

“Of course I did. I still do. A bright girl like you belongs in university, not spending your days in the rest home, or queuing up for bread or oil, or—”

“The war won’t last forever. I might still go to school once it ends.”

“You might,” he admitted. “Or perhaps . . . perhaps I might teach you some of what I know. As if you were one of my students in Padua. I don’t miss those long hours on the train on my teaching days, but I do miss my students. And I think you would make a very good doctor. Do you think . . . ?”

“I would love nothing more,” she promised, blinking hard. It was silly to cry over something that was good.

“We’ll be constrained by our circumstances. It will be far from a comprehensive education, but I can give you an idea, if nothing more, of what medicine is like. If it’s something that suits you.”

“When can we start?”

“You’ve been reading through my library for years, so I suspect you’re well on your way.”

“You knew?” she asked, though she ought not to have been surprised. She ought to have known he would notice.

“Of course I did. And perhaps I ought to have said something. Encouraged you in your studies. Still . . . books can only teach you so much. You’ll learn more by coming with me on some of my visits. I’ll ask permission, of course, but I think most of my patients will be content to have you present. And it will be helpful to have an extra pair of hands.”

“So I will watch you as you work?”

“Yes. You will watch, and in time you will learn how to see. You will listen, and then you will learn how to hear. And that, my darling girl, is how a doctor is made.”

Chapter 2

11 January 1943

She’d gone to bed early, but even so it felt like she’d just fallen asleep when the knock at her door woke her.

“Antonina? Signora Mele needs us.”

“Yes, Papà.”