Page 188 of Valor

Mother sat on the stack of empty flour sacks, panting for breath.

“Dr. Weiss could help.”

“The Jew?”

“He asked?—”

“You are as dumb as your mother. You think I will let a Jew into my house?”

“Not the house,” Fred struggled to keep his voice steady. “Just the mill. He can help me to pull this fastener out.”

“Let him.” Mother clenched her chest. “I can’t?—”

Father stared at her. And as his anger slowly subsided, he silently nodded.

“Good,” Fred said under his breath. Then he looked up. “Can I give him Honza’s old clothes?”

“The rags he left behind? Good enough for the Jew.”

Fred clenched his fist. This wasn’t the time. He rushed to his room, reached into the cedar chest, and pulled out two bundles of old clothes, Honza’s and Marta’s. He had not asked Mother about his sister’s outfit, but if Hedvika showed herself useful, maybe Father would stop ranting.

His heart pounding in his ears, Fred ran to the barn.

“Here is a change of clothes, Dr. Weiss. Father needs help repairing the mill. And this is for you.” Fred passed his sister’s old clothes to Hedvika.” His eyes lingered on the lace fringe of her white blouse, now smeared with dirt. “It’s the best I can do.”

“Thank you.” Dr. Weiss climbed back into the loft. When he came down, he looked like a different man—much younger and much less posh, not at all like a wealthy dentist.

A loud sob filled the space. Fred looked up. Mrs. Weiss stood at the top of the ladder; an embroidered handkerchief pressed against her lips. Her eyes welled up with tears.

“It’s okay, Dear.” The new Dr. Weiss looked up.

“Let’s go,” Fred said, keenly aware that Father was waiting.

“What about me?”

He glanced at Hedvika as he was about to shut the door. “I’ll ask Mother if she needs help in the kitchen.”

CHAPTERNINE

Northern Moravia, 2025

“Wouldyou think me completely irrational if I told you I think that someone has been following me since I got onto the train?”

Oliver’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the steering wheel.

“What do you mean?”

“A man wearing a fedora. I snapped a picture of him as he was leaving the station. Let me show you.” Meghan pulled the phone out of her pocket and tapped the screen. “It’s not very good, but see the hat? How many people around here would wear a thing like that?”

Oliver glanced at the picture.

“No one I know.”

“Hmm, that is really not that helpful.”

“Why would you say he is following you?”

“He watched me on the train even after I changed seats. Then he got off at Krasna Hora, too. And when we drove to my Airbnb, he was parked at the curb in front of the station.”