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“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Hans said the boys have been teasing him about...” She paused, and then her tone sharpened. “Sofie. Youknow.”

“Mayim?” I whispered.

“You can’t harbor a Jew in your house and not expect the other children to notice.”

“We aren’tharboringanyone. It’s perfectly legal for her to be here.”

“Children are more perceptive than we realize sometimes,” she said. “Look, why don’t you come around tomorrow morning for tea and we can discuss it? I hate that your boy is unhappy, and it’s been so long since we caught up. I’m sure we can figure this out.”

Ithadbeen a while since I saw Lydia. All of our old friends were increasingly engaged in Nazi party activities, and I’d found myself withdrawing more and more. I was desperate to help Georg, though, so we agreed that I’d meet Lydia at her home the following day.

But as soon as I hung up the phone, a burst of frustration and anger overtook me. I picked up the handset and dialed Jürgen’s direct line.

“I need you to come home tonight.”

“I can’t,” he said automatically. His team were preparing for yet another test launch and there seemed to be no time in his schedule for anything else. “There’s this panel giving us some trouble—”

“I think Georg is being bullied at school and I’m so sickof dealing with every little thing in this family on my own. I needyou to come home tonight.”

“Okay,” Jürgen sighed. “Okay.”

“Good,” I snapped, but by the time Jürgen walked through the front door, my impatience with him had burned out. I pulled him close and kissed his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Me too,” he said. “I know you’re carrying the load of the family. I don’t thank you enough for that.”

“I’m worried about Georg. Lydia said some of the boys may have been teasing him about Mayim.”

“Ah,” Jürgen said, wincing. Then he sighed heavily. “I’ll put him to bed tonight and talk to him, man-to-man.”

For the first time in a long time, the six of us were home for a meal. We sat at the end of the long dining table in the formal dining room, Laura happily tucked between Adele and Mayim, Georg beside me opposite them, and Jürgen at the head of the table.

I was struck by the warmth that burned in my chest at the simple pleasure of us all being together around a table spread with good food. Adele served juicy slices of roast chicken, while Mayim and I began to dish out the vegetables. But when she tried to ladle carrots onto Georg’s plate, he pushed the spoon away aggressively. His expression was sullen, and he refused to look at her.

“What’s wrong, little buddy?” she asked him gently. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

“Georg,” I said, surprised. “You love carrots.”

He looked up, then around the table, his eyes filling with tears as he flicked his gaze between me and Jürgen and Adele. I noticed then that he was going to some lengths to avoid looking at Mayim, dropping his eyes to the table every time they might pass her.

“I don’t want carrots either,” Laura said, as if she sensed a chance to avoid her vegetables.

“Everyone is having carrots,” Jürgen said firmly, but then Georg burst into noisy sobs, pushed his chair back, and ran from the room. Mayim and I exchanged startled glances, as Jürgen also pushed his chair away from the table. “Let me talk to him.”

I left Laura with Adele and Mayim and followed Jürgen and Georg down the hallway, but lurked outside Georg’s bedroom, out of sight.

“What is it, Georg?” Jürgen asked softly.

“Papa,” Georg said hoarsely. “Is it true? Is Mayim a dirty Jew?”

There was a long pause. I could hear my pulse in my ears as I waited for Jürgen to respond.

“Please don’t use those words,” Jürgen said carefully. “But yes, it is true that Mayim is Jewish. Why are you worried about that, Georg?”

“Mrs. Muller says that the Jews are the enemies of the Führer. Is she going to hurt us?”