“Henry, you have to drive yourself back to that hospital in Nashville,” I said slowly. I still wasn’t sure he understood. And right in that moment Henry’s mind was obviously elsewhere—with Jürgen Rhodes, or back in Europe, or already on the road. I took him by the shoulders and gently pulled at him, encouraging him to stand. “Can you do that? Can you get yourself back to the hospital?”

“I—Yes. I think so.” The hospital was almost two hours away, but I couldn’t think of any other way to get him out of town than to send him under his own steam.

“You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone. When you get to the hospital, you just tell the nurse you’re confused. You tell her you’re seeing and hearing things that aren’t there.”

“But I’m not—”

“Honey,” I whispered brokenly, “I think you are.”

“Like…like shooting Rhodes? Did I imagine that?” He sounded so hopeful.

“Yes,” I said slowly. “All of this. You’ve imagined all of it.” But then I imagined him checking himself into the clinic and immediately confessing to a potential murder, so I added hastily, “But you mustn’t tell them what you’ve been imagining. Okay? Just tell them you’re seeing and hearing things that aren’t really there and you need them to help you again.”

“Why is this happening, sis?”

“I think your mind is tired, and maybe that insulin therapy made it a little bit broken too,” I said sadly, reaching to squeeze his hand. “That’s not your fault. You need to take some care and rest, and you’ll feel better soon. So can you go to the hospital?”

“I can do that.” Henry nodded miserably. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“I’ll take care of everything else, but you have to go, and you have to go now before Calvin wakes up.”

45

Sofie

Huntsville, Alabama
1950

The paramedics said that Jürgen probably needed surgery, and that it was serious. Very serious. Klaus retrieved one of Claudia’s housecoats for me and I threw it over my nightclothes, intending to go with Jürgen in the ambulance—but then I noticed the blue flashing lights on the street outside my house.

“Take care of him, please,” I begged the paramedic, as he shut the door to close Jürgen inside. He nodded at me, his eyes brimming with sympathy. “If he wakes up, tell him I won’t be far away.” At this, the sympathy intensified. It was clear this man did not expect Jürgen to wake up anytime soon, if at all.

A great wave of emotion was looming over me; I just couldn’t allow it to crash—not yet. I had to stay calm until I talked to the police, and in that regard, my state of shock was almost helpful.