“I find it so hard to imagine Germany after the Nazis, finding its soul again and rebuilding in a kinder, healthier way,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m less surprised to hear children like our Laura are struggling to move on. She was force-fed that poison through the most impressionable years of her life.”

“I know there was a point along the way where the outcomes could have been different, but I can’t figure out where that was.”

“I still ask myself that question constantly too,” Jürgen said, his gaze steady on mine.

“Is it safe to talk here?” I asked, instantly unnerved at the thought of the conversation veering near contentious subjects. He gave me a sympathetic look.

“Yes, my love.”

“There are no listening devices in this house? You’re sure?”

“I’m certain.”

“It’s just…we thought that the last time.” I knew how small those devices could be—how cleverly they could be hidden.

“We are safe here. I remember how difficult it was for me to get used to that, but I promise it’s true.” His expression suddenly softened. “You must have so many questions. Let me try to answer them before you even have to ask.”

A few days after Berlin fell to the Soviets, Jürgen and I were lying in our bed, holding one another as we planned his surrender. A knock came at the door just after dawn, and he opened it anxiously, expecting to find Soviet soldiers to take him in. But these men were Americans—miles ahead of the rest of the US forces, on a covert mission to retrieve my husband. He went willingly. I watched him walk down the path, and then for over three years, I had no idea what became of him. I gave birth to Felix and celebrated three birthdays with him before I could even tell Jürgen we’d conceived a fourth child.

Life grew more and more difficult in Berlin over those years. Jürgen and I lived in a large villa in the suburb of Lichterfelde West, and we’d inherited the building next door, including the small, now-vacant apartment that had once been Jürgen’s aunt Adele’s home. We had existing tenants in her building, but they were all out of work, and that meant no one was paying their rent. I couldn’t evict them—not only would Adele have come back to haunt me if I tried, but any new tenants would have the same problem anyway.

Desperate to support myself and the children, I rented out our main house to the American Army, and Laura, Gisela, Felix, and I crammed into Adele’s one-bedroom apartment.