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“Just tell me before I lose my nerve and run back to the road.”
Oliver pointed to three stones to the right. “That over there is Dr. Weiss. He was a dentist in town. His wife and his son Isaac. He was less than a year old.” He nodded toward the small marker on the right.
“Why are they buried in the forest and not at a cemetery.”
“They died here in 1942.”
Meghan stared at him, unsure what that meant.
“They were Jewish,” he somberly added.
She inhaled sharply. The nameless grave markers brought tears to her eyes.
Oliver proceeded toward the graves, ran his hand over the first stone, and looked up. And Meghan knew. None of this was a coincidence: her being here, Oliver offering her a ride at the train station, the man following her, the break-in, the message in the stall.
She turned around, ready to get back to Oliver’s house and retrieve her belongings. Tomorrow, she would be on the first flight out of this country.
“Wait,” he said.
She whipped around.
“Let me tell you?—”
“They were your relatives. Right?” She would sign this property over to the state if that were the easiest way of getting rid of this mill, the falling barn, and this horrific story. A tear slid down her cheek. The man standing in front of her deceived her.
“You need to know the whole story.”
Meghan folded her arms and glared at him. If he wanted her to feel guilt for her ancestor’s action, she would disappoint him. Meghan had no connection to this mill. The tragic death of this family had nothing to do with her.
“Your great-grandmother is here too.” He pointed to a headstone barely visible in the shrubs to the left.
The sound of an approaching vehicle rumbled through the air. Oliver motioned to Meghan to be still. The engine cut out. Four distinct thuds of car doors slamming interrupted the peace of the clearing. Barked commands carried on the forest breeze. Oliver reached for Meghan and pulled her to the ground.
“Stay down,” he whispered.
Her breath strangled in her lungs. What did she get herself into?
“When I give you the sign, get behind the headstones.” Oliver crouched forward.
God, please help us.
* * *
Oliver was careful,checking if anyone followed them. No one had. He ducked into the tall grass. The four men, their faces covered in ski masks, rifles in hands, searched the clearing. They didn’t know where Meghan and he were hiding. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the group. These guys meant business. None of them looked like Robert, but Oliver was positive the man was behind this. From the gruff words that carried over to his hiding spot, he deduced they were Russians. Robert must have hired them to help him hunt down Meghan. A second car pulled into the clearing. Now, he had a small army on his hands. This situation had escalated fast.
Oliver carefully crept toward Meghan. He placed his index finger over his lips and motioned to her to follow. When they were about a hundred meters away from the mill, he stopped in the underbrush.
“They are armed,” he whispered.
Meghan inhaled sharply.
“But they have not seen us.” He tried to assure her.
She was right to be scared. The goons by the mill didn’t come to hunt deer. He had to keep her safe.
“Ready?”
“Yep.” She squeezed his fingers. “But only if you start being honest with me.”