He looked up, then around the table, his eyes filling with tears as he flicked his gaze between me and Jürgen and Adele. I noticed then that he was going to some lengths to avoid looking at Mayim, dropping his eyes to the table every time they might pass her.

“I don’t want carrots either,” Laura said, as if she sensed a chance to avoid her vegetables.

“Everyone is having carrots,” Jürgen said firmly, but then Georg burst into noisy sobs, pushed his chair back, and ran from the room. Mayim and I exchanged startled glances, as Jürgen also pushed his chair away from the table. “Let me talk to him.”

I left Laura with Adele and Mayim and followed Jürgen and Georg down the hallway, but lurked outside Georg’s bedroom, out of sight.

“What is it, Georg?” Jürgen asked softly.

“Papa,” Georg said hoarsely. “Is it true? Is Mayim a dirty Jew?”

There was a long pause. I could hear my pulse in my ears as I waited for Jürgen to respond.

“Please don’t use those words,” Jürgen said carefully. “But yes, it is true that Mayim is Jewish. Why are you worried about that, Georg?”

“Mrs. Muller says that the Jews are the enemies of the Führer. Is she going to hurt us?”

“Of course she won’t hurt us!” Jürgen said, flustered and frustrated.

“But the boys say that if she’s in our house she will steal our money and make us sick.” Georg gave a shuddering sob. “Papa, Hans won’t play with me at school because he said I have dirty Jew germs. He said we might even die!”

“That’s silly, Georg. You know that Mayim isn’t dangerous.”

“But Hans said—”

“I know what Hans said,” Jürgen said abruptly. I could almost hear the cogs of my husband’s mind turning. To defend Mayim was to invite trouble from the Gestapo. To not defend Mayim was to fracture our family. He paused, then called helplessly, “Sofie?”

I came around the corner and joined him in the room. Jürgen was seated at the end of Georg’s bed. I sat beside Georg’s pillow. He sat up and threw his arms around me, suddenly weeping anew.

“Mama,” I heard him whimper. “I don’t want Mayim to give me carrots anymore.”

I wrapped my arm around him and looked over his head at Jürgen. My husband’s shoulders slumped as he stared down at the carpet.

We gave Georg the option to return to the table to eat his carrots. He told us he just wanted to go to bed. Tears in my eyes, I kissed him good-night and let him have his way. By the time we emerged from Georg’s room, Mayim was in her own room, and her door was closed.