44. Emilie

FORTY-FOUR

Munich, Germany

A little girl sits on a sofa as her parents stand before her, staring at her with their arms crossed and a look of disappointment stamped across their faces. I don’t even have Gerty to back me up. She had to go back home to Calvin and their son.

“There’s nothing for you here,” Papa says. “I need to know that you’re not alone all the time, not now. It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t want to go home. I’m sorry,” I say, uttering my words as I stare between them. They don’t know about Danner. They don’t know what I’ve been doing, keeping him alive all this time through my work and through the small things I can get to him—the hope I try to instill in him. I do know they would do the same, but they wouldn’t want me walking into Dachau every night. Papa would tell me he would do it instead and wouldn’t tolerate an argument.

I’ve never kept anything from them until Otto and I moved here.

“There’s something you aren’t telling us, Emilie,” Mama says. “You might be a grown woman living on your own now, but a mother’s instinct only grows stronger with age.”

She’s staring at me with a sharp glare—a glare I could never peer past as a child. I knew I would be in less trouble by being honest up front than if I lied.

I close my eyes and swallow against the dryness strangling my throat. “Danner is a prisoner in Dachau.”

The color drains from both their faces, and their jaws fall open. Their expression is something beyond the description of shock, and I’ve shared this information as if I were telling them it might rain later.

“I don’t understand… How do you know this?” Papa says, stepping in closer to the coffee table between us.

“What did you think when I told you Otto bought us a house in Dachau? Where did you think we’d be?”

They weren’t concerned when I told them I was leaving. They were happy I’d married a man who wanted to take care of me and keep me safe.

“That he would be conducting research with his father in a field hospital, as he said,” Mama replies, a brow now raised as anger pinches at her forehead.

“Isn’t that where you’ve been helping him all this time?” Papa follows. “That’s what you’ve told us, is it not?”

I drop my gaze to my lap, my interwoven fingers, the golden band still encircling my finger. “Yes, but the field hospital was inside the Dachau concentration camp.”

Their shock and anger transform into a state of horror, their eyes bulging, unblinking as if they’ve been shot in the back. Why is this expression familiar to me? It’s one that haunts my nightmares, but I shouldn’t be familiar with this dead expression.

“I’ve been covertly trying to save prisoners by altering data to avoid further human experimentation that continues to be ordered by the Luftwaffe. Danner was one of the initial subjects. I managed to save him, and I’ve been leaving him rations of food rolled into a newspaper nightly as I deliver reports to Dietrich’s office. He’ll die if I stop.”

Papa drops down onto the side of the coffee table and Mama ambles to my side, sitting next to me on the sofa. “Why in the world did you keep this from us?” she asks.

“Everything is a secret, Mama. Shared secrets result in death.”

“Otto knew he was pulling you into this situation and kept it from you?”

“Stefan and Marion knew about this,” Papa grunts.

I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t like that. Dietrich is the mastermind behind it all. Herr Berger pulled us away from Dachau once he found out what we were being forced to take part in, but Dietrich knew I had a connection with Danner and promised to keep him safe if I helped him.” The more I say, the more nauseous they look. Mama is holding her stomach and Papa has his head cradled in his hand. “If I leave here, I won’t be able to bring Danner any more food. He’ll starve to death. He’ll lose hope.”

“There’s so much I need to say, want to say—so much I can’t comprehend,” Papa says. “Stefan knew about Danner?”

“Yes, but not until Herr Berger confronted Dietrich.”

“And he did nothing to help pull Danner out of that godforsaken prison camp?” Papa stands up, pinning his hands to his hips while pacing the living room. “He’s as bad as his brother. You’re the one who continued to help Danner. The only one?”

I lower my chin, dropping my gaze because saying anything more won’t calm him down.

“I need to get him out of there. I’ll deal with Dietrich,” Papa shouts.

“Andreas, that man is—he’s not right in the head,” Mama snaps back at Papa.

“He’s part of the SS with his role beneath Heinrich Himmler. I’m not sure anything you say will make a difference.”

“I won’t sit here and make assumptions while Danner rots to death,” Papa says with a grunt, his veins pulsating along his temples.

His words squeeze at my chest, adding to the insurmountable amount of pain I’m trying to cope with. But if he has a chance at saving Danner—the risks, I don’t know what’s right or safe. “Maybe I should just continue delivering papers to Dachau for Dietrich and leaving the food for Danner as I’ve been doing. I don’t want to make this worse. That’s my fear,” I say, mumbling my words.

“I’m just going to speak with him,” Papa says, huffing from his nostrils like an angry bull. “The two of you stay here until I return. We’ll pack some bags and come stay here with you if that’s what’s needed for Danner. We’ll help take care of him.”

“Andreas, you should take a moment to think this all through,” Mama says.

“I already have. That boy has already lost his father, and I’m sure he isn’t even aware of it yet. I saw his name on a list recently. He’s dead. I don’t know about his mother and David, but so help me God, I won’t sit back and let something happen to him, too.”

“Herr Alesky is dead?” I whisper. My body turns to ice, knowing it’s something more Danner will have to move on with—if he moves on. “This isn’t fair.” Endless tears streak down my face, the saltiness burning my raw cheeks.

“Just stay here. I’ll be back shortly,” Papa says, his voice calmer, his breaths more even. He leans over the coffee table and presses a kiss against my head, then gives Mama a kiss, too. “I love you both. Stay here.”