Like most employers in Germany, Jürgen’s university was struggling with an ever-shrinking budget, and they’d cut staff salaries by more than half. His income no longer covered our living expenses, even though we’d laid off all of our household staff and sold our cars. We were selling my family heirlooms now, but it was a short-term solution. Some rooms were already devoid of all but the most essential furniture.

That was why it seemed like such a miracle when Karl called to ask Jürgen if he was interested in a new job. Karl wouldn’t say much, just that it was an exciting and lucrative new opportunity and he’d be in touch soon. But days turned into weeks, and every time I tried to organize a casual catch-up with the zu Schillers, they were busy campaigning for the Nazis. I caught Lydia on the phone a few times, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me anything.

“Karl will tell you more when he sees you both,” she kept saying.

Every time a significant Nazi event was held in Berlin, Lydia had her staff drop off free rally tickets. I usually threw them into the trash, but when the latest tickets arrived, my impatience got the best of me and I decided to go.

It was a clumsy, flawed plan. Karl was already at the rally when Lydia’s town car arrived to collect me, and although he sat with us during the proceedings, he was busy on official business before and after, and I didn’t have a chance to speak to him.

“Something has to give,” I whispered to Mayim, my throat tight. “We can’t afford this place anymore, but even if we sell it, we won’t clear the mortgage. Where would we even go?”

Mayim rose and came to take the seat beside me, resting her hand over mine on the armrest.

“Go to bed, Sofie,” she said softly. “Things will look better in the morning.”

She had a way of soothing me, without saying much at all.

“What would I do without you?” Mayim flashed me a soft smile.

“I really have no idea. Lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

I crawled into bed soon after, so drained I could barely keep my eyes open, but the minute my head hit the pillow, my anxiety resurged. Even the very real threat of losing my home suddenly paled in comparison to the fear that the men I’d heard speak at that rally might soon be in power. I thought about Mayim and shivered with fear.

“You weren’t at dinner with Lydia tonight, were you?” Jürgen said, startling me. I turned toward him guiltily. He was lying on his back, wide-awake and staring up at the ceiling.

“I did have dinner with her…” I admitted. “Then I went with her to the rally.”

“Sofie, what on earth were you thinking?”