“Marta should be here soon,” Anika repeated. “Maybe we take a walk?”

But just then, the door opened.

Marta was definitely Anika’s sister, having the same wrinkled face, same long jawline, and white hair, except she had it tied into a bun. She wore a fitted blue suit but had orthopedic shoes on her feet. She met Rina’s eyes, then clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh mein Gott, it is Marta Gottlieb!” Tears welled in her blue eyes. “I can’t believe …”

She started to cry. Anika said, “My sister is emotional.”

Rina held out her hand. “I do look like my mother.”

But Marta was weeping too hard to respond. Anika hit her shoulder. “Stop!”

“You stop!” Marta choked back. Finally, she took Rina’s hand and clasped it. “How is your mother?”

“Mama is fine. Very fine and very well.”

Marta exhaled. “We were very good friends once. A lifetime came between us.”

“I know.”

“She was in Auschwitz?”

“Yes.”

“Ach … terrible, terrible.” She brought her hand to her chest. “Such a strong woman. If anyone could survive, it would be Marta. I would have surely died.” She wiped her eyes. “It smells good, Anika. I am hungry.”

“They can’t eat. They are kosher,” Anika explained.

“Yes, yes … I should have thought of that.”

“It’s really fine,” Rina said. “Peter and I have to start heading back. We still have a young child at home. How long are you staying in town, Mrs. Wallek?”

“Marta, please. This time, I stay through August. A long time. I must see your mother. Please. It would do well for me. I think it would do well for her, too.”

Rina nodded. “I’ll ask her. But I have one favor—no more talk about the murders. It should be only pleasant recollections.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Marta said. “So many bad memories.” A sigh. “It is bad to be senile, ja? But not so bad to forget some things.”

“Selective repression,” Rina said.

“Exactly,” Marta said. “Our lives now are very short. It is not a time to dwell on the past.” She squeezed Rina’s hand. “We can come to Los Angeles.”

“We can?” Anika said.

“Yes, we can,” Marta insisted. “I can drive.”

That thought was truly terrifying. Decker said, “How about if I arrange to have you driven down? Arrive in style.”

“No, I wouldn’t accept!”

“As a present to Rina’s mother,” Decker insisted. “It would be my pleasure.”

“He doesn’t want you to drive,” Anika told her sister.

“I want you two to be comfortable,” Decker said. “Let us talk to Magda—Rina’s mother—and I’ll e-mail you some dates.”

Again Marta brought her hand to her chest. Again, her eyes watered. “That would be wonderful. Thank you so much.” She kissed Rina’s left cheek, then the right one. The tears came streaming down. “I am so sorry!”

“Please, Marta—”

“All the pain and suffering that we did to your people!”

“Marta, it’s a new world.” Rina squeezed her hand and sighed. “Hopefully.”