Chapter Twenty-Six

HANNA

Hanna returned to the house, having secured a very tearful Frau and Herr Goldman in the bunker. She didn't know what might happen to them, but she'd left them with oil lamps, warm blankets and food, and all she could do now was wait and see who came for them.

Her mother had made coffee for them both, and they sat down in the two chairs closest to the windows in the front room so they could watch the driveway. Hanna couldn't help but wonder if it would be the last time they sat like this together in the house they both loved so much.

‘You should have gone with your sister.'

Hanna kept her coffee cup in her hands, finding the warmth soothing. ‘Mama, I will never leave Germany,' she said, staring out, looking down the long line of trees that flanked the entrance to their property. ‘My husband is here, my son is here.' She didn't bother holding back her tears, not now, not with only her mother beside her. There was nobody she had to be brave for any more. ‘This was their home, and I will never leave them. And now Papa is here forever, too.'

She glanced at her mother and saw that she, too, had tears in her eyes. ‘We both have our husbands to stay for. I understand that more than anyone, my love.'

‘What will we do? When they come?' Hanna asked.

‘We do whatever we have to do. But I won't let them take me alive.'

Hanna wiped her eyes and sipped her coffee again, just as three big black cars began to roll up the driveway, one after another. As much as it broke her heart to hear her mother speak in that way, she felt the same. After what she'd been through, after what she'd seen them do to Eliana, she wouldn't let them take her alive, either. Not again.

‘They're here.'

Both women stood, embracing before collecting their guns from the table. They both held SS pistols, and her mother also had a rifle slung over her shoulder – one they'd kept on the property for hunting purposes for most of Hanna's life. Neither of them had ever fired it before – hunting had always been her father's interest, not theirs – but she didn't doubt for a moment that her mother would use it.

The sound of dogs barking sent a shudder through Hanna, and she met her mother's gaze. The canines could only mean one thing; they'd come to search for someone.

They positioned themselves by the door, peering out, but instead of approaching the house as she'd expected, the men moved straight out towards the garden. She'd thought they would be coming directly to the house to take them, but they didn't even send one of the men to the door.

‘They know about the bunker,' her mother whispered.

‘How?' Hanna asked, panic rising inside of her, her skin prickling. ‘How could they know?'

‘We all had them built around the same time, to ensure our families would be safe in case of bombings. They must suspect we're hiding someone, and someone must have sent them specifically to search it.'

Hanna didn't think, she just ran, bursting through the front door and holding her gun high, taking aim and shooting at the closest SS man. She got him squarely in the back, and she watched in horror as his body crumpled to the ground, as the other men all turned, guns drawn. She'd never taken a life before, but as gut-wrenching as it felt, she knew she was capable of doing it again.

‘No!' her mother screamed from behind her, and she ran out, moving past Hanna as she fired again, and again and again.

Hanna lifted her pistol once more, taking aim, hitting another man in the shoulder. But at the same time she saw her mother stop, the pistol she'd been holding falling from her fingers. Hanna paused only for a second, only long enough to see the crimson stain of blood spreading across her mother's dress, covering the front of it, the sound of the SS officers yelling, the dogs barking, the rush of air as she ran forward again, screaming.

Hanna fired her pistol over and over, until there were no shots left, until she tripped as something pierced her shoulder, sharp and violent, as even more pain exploded in her stomach. She looked back, as everything began to spin around her – seeing her mother face down in the dirt, her hair like a golden fan around her. And all she could think, as she felt herself slipping away, was that she hoped Herr Goldman had enough bullets to finish off what they'd started.