It was rare for my mild-mannered husband to raise his voice, and I jumped. Karl stared back at him impassively.

“I’m saying it as plainly as I can. The goal is space,” he said flatly. “This isn’t a job developing rockets for the Nazis—certainly not a job developing weapons for Hitler. It’s just like taking a job as a town planner for the City of Berlin, or as secretary for the Department of Health—you’ll be working for the people of Germany, not whomever the current government happens to be.” I could see Jürgen was unconvinced—his lips remained pursed, his shoulders stiffly locked. We sat in silence for a long, tense moment—then Karl’s tone abruptly softened as he pleaded with us. “Jürgen—Sofie. Just promise me you’ll think it over, okay? This is the chance of a lifetime. As your friend, I can’t bear to watch you let it pass you by, especially now that I know how badly you two need the money.”

Jürgen caught my eye, and I gave a subtle shake of my head. That Karl was pushing this hard only reinforced my feeling that this job was not a smart move for Jürgen. I saw the relief in my husband’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Karl,” Jürgen said. “This job is not for me.”

Karl seemed frustrated, but he stood and Jürgen and I followed him to the front door. There, he paused.

“I am your friend, and I understand your decision. I just hope you both realize there may be others who do not.”

Less than an hour after he left for work the next day, Jürgen returned home, calling out to me as he came through the front door. I found him in his study standing at his desk, staring down into a large box, a distant expression on his face.

“What on earth are you doing home so early?”

“Professor Koch said it came from above his head. Above the dean’s head, even. He said they had no choice but to let me go.”

“Who gave them no choice?” I said tightly. Jürgen reached into the box and withdrew a folder, placing it down into his drawer. “Jürgen, who? Was it Karl?”

He was silent as he reached into the box again and withdrew a book, silent as he walked across the room to place it on a shelf. When he turned back to me, I was startled by how pale he was.

“It doesn’t really matter who did this because we do know why they did it.”

That night, Jürgen and I sat around the dining room table with Adele and Mayim, trying to find an alternative to the Army Ordnance position.

“Cut your losses. Sell the house,” Adele announced. “Move in with me.”

“I’ll move home,” Mayim said quietly. “It won’t be so bad.”