Page 168

“Just like the Israelites when they escaped from Egypt?” The child’s voice was tired.
“Yes,” Dr. Weiss whispered.
Fred stood there, thankful for the cover of darkness for the third time tonight. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek. If he ever became a father, this is how he would talk to his child. A strong man could be calm and good. He could also love. A father didn’t have to be angry and terrifying.
Fred swallowed back the tears. Dr. Weiss was right. He had to get back to his room, tuck himself under his old duvet, and pretend he had been there all night.
God, what will tomorrow bring?
“Good night,” he whispered into the darkness, hoping Hedvika would hear him. Fred walked out of the barn and shut the double door. He looked at the crossbar, wondering if he should lock it, as Father made him do every night. But what if the family had to get out? There were two loose planks at the back of the barn that Honza pried off when Father locked them both in. But they wouldn’t know that. Fred decided to leave the barn unlocked so they wouldn’t get trapped.
He walked cautiously back to the mill. Carefully, he opened the side door, praying it wouldn’t creak. Fred kicked off his shoes and snuck into the kitchen.
A slap across his face made him stumble.
“Who is she?” Mother hissed in the darkness.
“What?” He was stunned.
“Who do you take me for? You are lucky your father is asleep. He would have your hide for this.”
“Mother—”
“Hush now. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
Fred stood before her, his hand covering the stinging cheek.
“But—”
“I’m going to bed so your father doesn’t wake to see that I’m not there. But I tell you, this is not over.”
She flipped her hand up. Fred flinched. But no other blow fell on his head. Mother marched toward their bedroom and silently closed the door behind her.
Fred staggered to the opposite side of the kitchen and slipped into his room. As soon as the door latch clicked, he dropped to his knees and let out his suppressed emotions. The hot tears dripped on his shirt, and he clasped his hands.
“God, I’m afraid. I’m so scared I don’t know what to do.”
CHAPTERTHREE
Northern Moravia, 2025
“And here we are.”Oliver’s Octavia pulled to the curb in front of a three-story building. He shifted to park and pressed a button on his dash.
Her Google Maps app chimed. Meghan peered through the window at the small apartment building. It must have been at least a hundred years old, much like every other house in this square, yet it looked well-maintained and inviting. There was a small park next to it with a tall monument topped with a cross. A little red light flickered—a memorial honoring the local war heroes.
“Thank you.” She was so ready for a nap. “This was very kind of you, Oliver. I would have been stuck at that station till the evening.” Meghan checked the street number painted on a blue square of metal above the entrance door, then pulled at the door handle.
“No worries.”
Oliver already stood outside her door, opening it for her. He offered her his hand. She was a little surprised but chalked it up to European manners.
“Thank you.” She said and accepted the gesture, hoping he wouldn’t notice that irritating blush on her face. Every time she felt the slightest bit of embarrassment; the flush betrayed her.
Meghan turned to the back of the car, ready to get her luggage and scoot out of this man’s way. He was kind, tall, and handsome, but she was only here for two weeks. There was no time to get to know anyone she would consider getting romantically involved with. Her life was already complicated enough, and a summer romance was not on the agenda.
Especially not some guy who lives six thousand miles away.Where did that come from?Clearly, it was time for a nap.
“Could you please open the trunk so I can get my stuff and let you go? You have wasted enough of your time with me. Thanks again.”