Epilogue

AVA

THE MüLLER ESTATE, BOGENSEE, GERMANY

JULY 1946

Ava held David's hand tightly as she stood at the open door, looking out over the garden. There had been times over the past two years that she'd wondered if she'd ever have the chance to return, whether she'd ever be able to come home and carry out her sister's wishes. So much time had passed since she'd last stood at that door, terrified and wondering how they were all going to survive. Since they'd fled and left her mother and sister behind.

David squeezed her hand, and she looked up at him. Whatever pain she was feeling, whatever trauma echoed through her memories, she knew it was only equal to what he was feeling. The day they'd left Bogensee had been the day they'd unknowingly said goodbye to their families, to everything they'd known and loved, but the time that had passed since then had slowly begun to repair their pain.

‘Shall we take him out to the garden?' David asked, and Ava watched as he bent to scoop their son into his arms.

Their child had just begun toddling, his unsteady little legs marching him about all over the place, and as soon as he was held high, he was wrestling to get down again.

‘Let him walk,' she said. ‘He can hold my hand and tire those little legs out.'

Ava held David's hand on one side and her son's on the other as they walked out and then down the few steps that led to the grass and garden beyond. It was overgrown now, with haphazard plantings sprouting every which way; something that made her think of her beloved Papa. He would turn in his grave to see the property in such a dishevelled state. The interior had fared better, despite the soldiers who'd used it while they'd been gone, although Ava hadn't yet been able to set foot upstairs, despite the time that had passed since she'd last been in there.

‘Are you thinking about them?' she asked, glancing over at David.

‘Of course. Are you?'

She nodded, taking a moment to let her emotions settle, not wanting to cry in front of their son. She'd cried enough tears to last her a lifetime, but even so her eyes still filled with moisture whenever she let her mind go back to the last day she'd kissed her mother and held her sister's hand.

‘I keep thinking about what it was like for them, after we left. How long they fought for, what they did to give us the chance to be free.'

She could see David swallowing, clearly trying as hard as she was not to break down. If she'd been a mother at a different time, she wondered if it would have worried her, for her child to see her cry. But after everything they'd been through, after all the tears and heartache, Max was their little miracle, the child who had lit up their world and helped them to find their smiles again, and she didn't want anything to stop him from his happy babbling and joy at life. At a life we are so very fortunate to have.

Everyone they'd loved had gone. From what she could gather, her mother and sister had died within hours of saying goodbye and sending them on their way, fearless until the very end to protect those they loved. Her father had been executed for treason, but her mother had been wrong; that day, when everything had changed, he'd still been alive, tortured and then sent to Sachsenhausen concentration camp, where he'd been killed within days of arrival. And David's beautiful, kind-hearted parents had eventually been discovered and sent to Auschwitz, where they'd survived for some months before perishing just before the camp was liberated. She'd even found out what had happened to her old friend Lina, who'd also ended up losing her life at a camp.

These were stories of the past, stories that Ava didn't often let herself think about, but being back home had brought everything rushing back. She paused, looking out towards the field, remembering the bunker, remembering the walks she'd taken with her father, the first time he'd told her what he was involved in. Ava could barely remember the girl she'd been then, and she only hoped that her actions in recent years went some ways to making up for her ignorance during that time.

‘She's here.'

Ava turned at David's words, letting go of his hand and her son's. Eliana, suitcase still in hand, was standing by the house. Her heart fluttered at seeing her old friend, still finding it hard to believe that all three of them had made it.

‘Eliana!' she cried, rushing to her and engulfing her in a hug. ‘It's so good to see you. I can't believe you're really here.'

Eliana hugged her back just as fiercely.

‘I can feel your bones,' Ava said. ‘We need to spend the weekend feeding you.'

Eliana laughed and stroked Ava's hair, smiling at her in a way that two people could only do when they'd been through so much together, when they knew one another better than they knew themselves.

‘Is it strange to say that this feels like home?'

‘It is home,' Ava said, linking her arm through Eliana's as they slowly walked back to the garden and down to David. She tipped her head to rest it on Eliana's shoulder. ‘This will always be your home. Our home, for all of us. Forever.'

They stood for a moment, watching David run around chasing Max, making him giggle in a way that warmed Ava's heart. She felt Eliana soften beside her, and knew that it was having the same effect on her.

‘He's the most beautiful child,' Eliana said with a sigh. ‘You two make such wonderful parents.'

‘We try our best. All we want is for him to be happy.'

They stood in comfortable silence for a little longer, gazes fixed on the scene before them. Ava didn't need to tell Eliana the responsibility she and David both felt to live their lives with gratitude, to make the most of every day and never take for granted the gift of simply being alive. Everything they'd been through, everything they'd fought for and lost, had bonded them in a way that was as strong as blood.

‘Has there been any word of Ethan?' Ava asked.

Eliana cleared her throat. ‘No. I haven't been able to find out anything.'

‘So he's still officially listed as a missing person?'

Eliana nodded. ‘He is. Although I was able to find records for his parents. It appears their involvement was discovered soon after we left, and they were shot. Even after everything we've already lost, hearing that they were gone, people who'd risked so much to keep me safe and alive, was almost impossible to believe.'

‘I'm sorry.' Ava looped her arm even tighter through Eliana's. ‘I know how much they meant to you. But don't give up on searching for Ethan. Surely miracles are still possible, even here in Germany? Even after everything?'

‘Of course they are,' Eliana said. ‘Miracles are always possible.'

‘I would feel that way if it were David,' Ava said shyly, watching him as he looked up and caught her eye, his smile just for her. ‘I would walk until the end of the earth to find him if I lost him, so you must hold on to hope. There is every chance that Ethan is still alive.'

As David and Max began walking towards them, Ava turned to Eliana and clasped her hands, trying to hold back her tears while she prepared to say something she'd been waiting for so long to say.

‘I know so much time has passed since we were girls, but I want to say sorry to you, Eliana. I want to apologise for the way I treated you, for the unforgivable way I turned my back on you at the beginning of the war.'

‘Ava, please—'

‘No, let me. No matter what has passed since then, no matter what we've been through, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I wish I could have seen what was happening right in front of me, and instead I chose to be part of it, and I also wish that I'd been brave enough to apologise to you that very first night in the attic, when you shared your story with me.'

‘The difference,' Eliana said, clasping her hands back just as tightly, ‘is that you changed when most did not. But if you need to hear it, then so be it. I wholeheartedly accept your apology, and there is no need to feel guilty for not saying it earlier. Your actions spoke louder than any words.'

Ava's breath shuddered from her. ‘Thank you.'

‘Eliana,' David said as he reached them and embraced his sister. ‘I'd say it's good to see you, but you seem to be making my wife cry. Please stop.'

They all laughed, and Ava scooped Max up into her arms and brought him close so they could all bend their heads together, all so relieved that they'd made it. She closed her eyes, remembering though at the same time trying so hard not to, for when she did, all she could see was Hanna's face as she'd said goodbye. As she'd so bravely sent Ava on her way, knowing that she was never going to leave herself, that they'd likely never see each other again.

Hanna's letter was still in her pocket; she had carried it every day since David had given it to her. But after today, she would find somewhere safe to keep it, once she'd fulfilled her sister's wishes. Until now, she'd wanted to keep it close as evidence of her intentions.

I made you a promise, Hanna, and I intend on keeping it. After today, your final wish will have been fulfilled.

Later that day, Ava stood in the back part of the garden that was partially hidden by a low stone wall. The last time she'd stood here, she'd found her sister, on her knees, with two glass jars beside her, tears streaming down her cheeks. Now it was Ava who was crying, her eyes filling with tears as she placed her shovel down and dropped to her knees.

David had offered to help her, but she'd asked him to stay at the house with Max so she could have a moment alone. She wanted to remember Hanna, to cry without being self-conscious, to feel the strength of her sister on her own as she followed through with what she'd started. But as she placed her hands on the cold ground, she'd never felt so alone. She'd wistfully hoped that she'd feel Hanna's presence, that she'd feel as if her sister were kneeling beside her in the dirt as she dug up the earth, but instead she'd never missed her more nor felt her absence more keenly.

There had been a time when Ava had truly believed that she'd be able to reunite the children Hanna had saved with their families. For months, she'd imagined passing the information to the authorities and felt certain they'd slowly be able to locate families as they came forward, looking for those they'd been forced to leave behind or send away. But it hadn't taken long after the war had ended for the atrocities against the Jews to become clearer. The losses had been in the millions, the number of people murdered as part of the Final Solution greater than even she could have imagined, the chance of family reunions almost impossible. Which had given her the very real understanding that any children who had been saved would no longer have parents looking for them; there was very little chance that those parents would still be alive. Nor their grandparents, aunts or uncles even.

Ava pushed her shovel into the dirt, thinking little of the plants her mother had carefully placed there in order to hide what was hidden beneath. She was focused on one thing only now, and that was digging up those jars. She had to be careful as she excavated, conscious that the glass could break, and the moment she heard even the softest of clinks, she would begin to dig by hand, the dirt caking beneath her nails and dampening her skin as she frantically fought to uncover the precious gifts below.

The first jar brought her to the ground, her body trembling. She carefully took it out, falling to her elbows when she saw the handwritten note inside. Hanna buried this. Hanna gave her life for this. My sister was the last person to touch this jar.

She sobbed into the earth for the longest of moments, before forcing herself back up, picking up the shovel again and beginning to dig once more. Soon, she was surrounded by jars, piling them up behind her as she kept digging. Ava didn't know if Hanna had buried more than the sixteen she'd helped her with, and she didn't want to miss even one, not when the information inside of each one was so important. Not now she was a mother with her own child, her own precious son; a son who, had he been born then, may well have ended up being a name in a jar. An orphan with no one left to come looking for him.

‘Ava?'

When she heard David say her name, she couldn't look up. She hadn't wanted him to see her pain, but when he knelt beside her and wrapped his arms around her, she took refuge in them, wishing he'd been there with her all along.

‘I'm never going to be able to reunite them,' she cried. ‘All these jars, all these families, they're never going to find one another. There's so little chance that any of them are even alive now.'

David rocked her in his arms, his lips to her hair as he soothed her pain.

‘Ava,' he finally said, when she sat back on her haunches and looked at him through eyes still blurred with tears. He gently stroked her hair, gazing at her with such tenderness that it hurt. ‘I want you to imagine that we were one of these parents, that we had risked everything to save our son, to give him a chance at a life that we knew he would never have in Germany.'

She shuddered at the thought, but nodded to David in reply anyway.

‘In their hearts, they knew that they would likely never see their children again. I think all of us Jews knew that nothing was going to get better for us, not here. But they sent their children away anyway in the hope that they would have the chance to live a full life far from Berlin.' David touched his hand to his chest. ‘Their hearts were full of so much love, that they chose to let their children go. And what's important here is that Hanna cared enough to preserve this information, and that you care enough to pass that information on. It's all you can do.'

‘So why doesn't it feel like I've done enough? Why do I feel as if I've done nothing at all? As if I've failed?'

David pulled her towards him again, holding her and rubbing circles on her back. ‘Because you're trying to make up for the evils of so many, and you are just one woman,' he whispered. ‘Sometimes we have to know when we've done our best.'

‘But have I?' she whispered. ‘Done my best?'

She felt his smile. ‘Yes, my love, you have most certainly done your best.'

They stayed like that on the ground for a long time, until the chill coming up from the earth reminded Ava it was time to go back to the house. She sat back and surveyed the jars, confident that she'd located every last one, but at the same time knowing she'd likely come back again and again over the coming days, just in case there was one she'd missed.

‘Would you have believed there were so many?' Ava asked.

David stood and walked in a small circle as he looked at the piles she'd made. ‘Never. I could never have imagined she'd saved this many children.'

‘Will you help me carry them all back to the house? I will carefully empty each one there, and make a record of the contents of each letter so that we retain a copy here.'

‘And perhaps we could save all the jars? We could think of something special to do with them, to remember Hanna by?' David suggested as he began to fill the wooden crate that Ava had brought out with her. ‘It will be a way to show Max, too, to make sure he understands the power of each jar and what it contained.'

‘Thank you,' Ava said, pausing to look up at him for a moment.

David only smiled, before lifting the crate to bring it closer to her. He was often a man of few words, but when he spoke he usually did so to make her smile or share something worthwhile, and today he'd done both. And despite her sadness, she closed the distance between them and took his face in her hands, kissing him gently on the lips, hoping he knew what he meant to her.

She'd made many mistakes when it came to matters of the heart, but David wasn't one of them.

ELIANA

There had been a time when Eliana had not known if she could ever forgive Ava for the pain she'd caused her. When Ava had found them in the attic, Eliana had wondered if there would ever be friendship between them again, whether she could ever forget the way Ava had looked at her or treated her.

Eliana's father had called it Hitler Fever. He had a theory that even those who wouldn't usually be caught up in such nonsense couldn't help but catch it from those around them, as if it truly was a fever that could spread unwittingly among people, and he'd also had a not so pleasant analogy about those that turned a blind eye to Adolf Hitler. So long as the dog doesn't defecate in their garden, they don't care about the dog. So long as their families are safe, they won't do a thing to help us. Until the dog comes into their garden; that is when they will realise their mistake. And he hadn't been wrong, for that was precisely what had happened.

She looked up then, pulled from her thoughts as Ava and David stood in the fading light outside on the patio. The glass jars that had been recovered from the garden had been cleaned and filled with candles, and as Eliana looked up at them, they reminded her of the fireflies she'd seen with her family while on holiday once, as a young girl. Only these weren't fireflies; they were reminders of all those names, all those children, all those families who hadn't survived.

Ava had asked for the jars to be repurposed; they were the only decorations she'd wanted, as a way to feel her sister's presence, and Eliana could see from her wide eyes that she loved them.

And as Eliana watched, the only witness to their wedding vows, she remembered. She remembered every moment of pain, every sacrifice, every loss, but she also remembered the love that had carried her family through all those hours and days and months trapped in the attic. She remembered her first gasp of fresh air when she'd eventually left the house, the way her breath had caught when she'd met Ethan for the very first time.

And as she looked at her brother, and saw the way he was looking at Ava, at the woman he'd loved for so long without Ava even knowing it, Eliana thought about how much her mother and father would have loved this moment, seeing two people who had once been on such different paths reunited in the name of love.

Eliana glanced to her left, seeing Ethan, remembering him, imagining him beside her. She held out her hand and felt his presence, could imagine the way he'd take her palm in his and wrap his fingers around it, the way he'd catch her eye and smile at her like no one else could. The way he'd gently lift her hand and press a kiss to it.

Tomorrow, she would tell them the truth. Tomorrow she would be honest with Ava and tell her that Ethan had perished along with his family, dying just days before the camp he'd been sent to was liberated. But today was a day for happiness and love; and for that, she would forever be grateful.