Father won’t let me read the financial pages, but he wants me to keep up on current events so I can converse with the man he chooses to be my husband. So I know all about Germany and the horrors they are inflicting on Europe. Father approves of their tyranny. He says to the victor go the spoils, and Germany is strong and white, and the Jews and Gypsies deserve whatever Hitler hands out to them. Sometimes, when he doesn’t notice, Mother looks at him as if he is a particularly disgusting form of slug. She isn’t white. Not even he with all his power could make the world proclaim her white. Or me, either. I’m half hers. She has begun to speak to me in Japanese again, as she used to before he forbade her. I remember quite a lot, and am getting better all the time…

“Ruby’s mother was Japanese?” The mere idea mentally knocked Kellen off her feet.

“Is that weird?” Rae had very little experience with prejudice.

Kellen opened the basket and unpacked the sandwiches. “Yes! He seems like the kind of guy who would want a submissive woman of his own race. At the same time, some men find American women, with their education and their free speech, to be too challenging.”

Rae spread the blanket on the floor.

Luna joined them, sitting at the edge of the blanket and watching eagerly.

“I guess he could have gone to Japan and bought a girl.” Kellen loaded Rae’s plate, then her own, and they dug in.

“Bought her? That’s gross.” Rae stuck her finger down her throat and made a gagging noise.

“Disgusting.” Kellen took Rae’s dill pickle spear off her plate.

Rae took it back, polished off her lunch, gave some cheese to Luna (Kellen pretended not to notice) and said, “I wonder if there’s a picture of the lady downstairs.”

“Ruby’s mom? There’s got to be.”

Rae jumped to her feet. “Do you think she’s dead? His wife?”

“Yes. Long ago. Remember? Daddy’s told us.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know them then.”

Kellen loaded the remains of lunch into their lunch basket. “We need the family Bible for the dates. Come on. Let’s find Gerard Morgade’s wife.”

“And Ruby’s mother.”

Picnic basket in hand, Kellen and Rae left the attic and clattered down the stairs. In their hurry, they failed to firmly shut the door behind them.

Inside the attic, the inner door opened.

The outer door opened.

A soft laugh followed them down the stairs.

They didn’t notice.

9

Kellen and Rae rifled through the library, looking for Morgade family photos, and found a picture of the newlywed couple.

Gerard Morgade was tall, overweight, in a beige suit with a waistcoat, a stiff collar and wide cravat. He was probably forty—and without expression. He showed no pleasure in the occasion or his young wife.