“But Fischel has been on Karl’s staff as long as we’ve known him. I cannot believe that Karl would fire him just to climb the ladder.”

“Maybe Karl’s decision is just like when you and I realized we simply have to give the salute.”

“So…you don’t think Lydia and Karl really buy into all of that nonsense about the Jews?” I asked Jürgen uncertainly.

“If they are acting, they are doing a very convincing job of it.”

“We could ask them.”

He pulled away from the curb, sighing heavily.

“It’s my intention to do everything I can to focus on my work. If we force a confrontation with the zu Schillers, there’s a good chance we’re going to be disappointed with how they respond, and by asking the question, we’ve revealed our discomfort. It’s like listening to Otto when he rants about the Jews or the disabled or the homosexuals. I could argue back—I mean, for God’s sakes, what ‘science’ is this? But does that really help? Does it change Otto’s mind? No. All it does is force him to confront the reality that he and I disagree. It’s best to stay focused on what we still have in common. In the case of Karl and Otto and me, that’s the rocket program. For you and Lydia, it’s our children and our friendship.”

In those first few early years of Nazi rule, each day mostly felt like the one before—warm family dinners, lunches at the park with Lydia while our children ran wild around us, frustrating and wonderful moments with my children, Mayim and I chuckling over some private joke, sharing glances at Adele each morning as I somehow, yet again, managed to offend Jürgen’s aunt with a single word or phrase.

But when I was forced to look back at how life changed in such a short period of time, I could barely believe I was in the same city. Outside of our family and outside of our home, the nation had morphed, and every interaction was now fraught.

As Jürgen parked the car on the street outside our house, I looked across the road to the Schneider house just in time to see an upstairs curtain swing back into place.

“Dietger keeping watch on us?” Jürgen asked. When I sighed to confirm his suspicions, Jürgen waggled his eyebrows at me and leaned in as if he was going to kiss me. “Should we give him a show?”

I laughed and moved to push him away playfully, but he caught my hands in his and his expression suddenly sobered.