After several minutes, Nana regains her composure. “When we first came to America, we lived in Brooklyn. We thought it was a safe, wonderful community with lots of other survivors. But one day, I witnessed thugs spitting at an old Jewish man. They knocked him down. They kicked him and called him awful names. They said Hitler should have turned him and his filthy family to ash. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“I’ve seen those ashes.” Nana lets out a soft moan, then says, “I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I was so scared. I begged your pa to take me away. I thought we would be safe in Riviere, where no one would ever know, a place without Jewish families to abuse. I thought we could have a fresh start. We wanted a family, but as you know, I miscarried so many times. Then you came along. Our miracle. I couldn’t bear any more loss, Mikayla. I needed to keep you safe! When we were invited to attend church, I thought that would be one more layer of protection. I believed it was the right thing to do.”

My lips tremble and tears pour down my cheeks. I shove a knuckle into my mouth, bite hard to keep myself from crying out.

Mom sucks in the biggest breath. “Oh, Ma,” she sobs, and buries her head in her hands.

Chapter 40: Logan

Not until I drive out of Riviere and onto the one-lane highway do I fully realize exactly where I’m heading. I need Dad.

The moment I enter his lecture hall, he turns away from the whiteboard and looks up. I know he’s surprised because he does a double take. He sets his marker down and addresses his students. “I have an important appointment, so today you’re dismissed early.”

Immediately, the room sparks into action—notebooks and laptops close, seats spring up, backpacks unzip and zip, phones ping. I move to the side. When there’s a break in the stream, I head down. Dad meets me halfway. “What is it, Logan? What’s wrong?”

The floodgates open. He pulls me in and runs his hand over my hair, murmuring that it’s okay. I’m not sure exactly what’s okay, but it’s the tenderness that gets through and helps me breathe again.

Letting go, I sit on one of the auditorium seats. Dad shuffles into the row below me and sits on the edge of the upholstered chair behind him. I tell him everything that happened from the moment Cade and I walked into school this morning until I left without my coat.