Page 25 of The Lies We Leave Behind

25

We were two weeks into the trip, staying in rooms at the house of one of Lee’s contacts, when I came down for breakfast and found the two men talking quietly. They stopped as I entered, and I pointed to the coffeepot.

“Help yourself,” our host, a tall, all-American-looking gentleman said. “There are pancakes in the oven.”

I raised my eyebrows and opened the oven door, hardly believing what he said was true. But there they were. Real American pancakes. There wasn’t any syrup, but I made do with a sprinkling of sugar.

“Shall I...” I pointed to the door that led to the dining room.

“No,” Lee said. “Please. Join us. You’re going to find out anyways. Might as well hear it from the source.”

My stomach turned over. Something it was doing a lot these days, lack of sleep and fear making me feel sick almost daily.

“Hear what?” I asked, sinking into one of the four kitchen chairs.

It was then that I noticed my surroundings.

We’d gotten in late the night before, Lee pushing to get us to this checkpoint to keep us on the schedule he’d created.

“What happens if we don’t get there today?” I’d asked when we were still hours away.

“We might miss our contact,” he said. “Like me, he moves around a lot. Even now as the Allies are taking back territory, we still have jobs to do, information to gather and share. I’m not just getting you to Germany. My presence here serves a great number of purposes. We’ll have to press on into the night and hope we make it by curfew so no one shoots us.”

He’d winked and I’d given a faint smile in return.

We arrived at our destination within minutes of curfew, the sky a steel gray that was darkening by the minute. Our host, a man called Mr. Jones, answered the door with a candle in hand and motioned for us to hurry inside. There were introductions, a small meal by candlelight, and then I was shown to my room where I hadn’t been able to make out much, just that there was a bed, an attached bathroom, and a glass of water on the bedside table for me. But now...

In the hutch behind Mr. Jones was a menorah. Beside it was a saying, framed, the words on it in Hebrew, which I recognized from seeing a similar item in Ruthie’s home so long ago.

Lee tapped my hand with his forefinger and I jumped. The two men exchanged a look, and Mr. Jones turned to see what I was looking at.

“Ah,” he said, his voice soft. “Yes. This home apparently belonged to a Jewish family. Something I didn’t realize at first, but figured out when I moved in and did a little investigating. One never knows if the home belonged to someone who escaped the war, or was taken from their home against their will. Of course, the family could have escaped and have plans to come back. As such, when I found the box of items hidden in the basement, I brought them up here where they belong.”

I nodded, but my throat was tight, my stomach threatening again. It was all a bit too much. I’d seen a lot of things. Injuries that were enough to make one hate their own race for the destruction they were capable of, but sitting at the table of a Jewish family that may never return reminded me of Ruthie, and a wave of grief washed over me.

“Are you alright?” Lee asked.

I took in a long breath and nodded.

“Yes, thank you. What were you two discussing before I interrupted?”

“Right,” Mr. Jones said. “Well, we’ve hit a bit of a snag in the plan. The car I was to provide for you got waylaid, the driver delivering it detained for official reasons he can’t immediately untangle himself from. This is not necessarily a bad thing though. The roads north of Luxembourg, where the car was to be, are a bit treacherous at the moment. The Allies are still working to push forward farther into Germany. So, I’ve come up with a bit of a workaround.”

As he explained the plan, dread crept up my spine like icy fingers slowly stepping one vertebra at a time. The plan was to drive north and then ditch the car we’d been using in Luxembourg. From there we’d take a rowboat in the dead of night up the Moselle River to a location farther north.

“Is the river not patrolled?” I asked.

“It has been,” Mr. Jones said. “But the guards along the path have lessened considerably. So long as the boat is kept near the riverbank, you should go undetected.”

I looked to Lee. “I’ve never rowed a boat before.”

“We’ll have a guide,” he said. “He’s done the trip several times and knows the different areas and what to listen and look for.”

“There’s no other way?” I asked.

“Not for this part of the trip.”

I nodded, my heart racing in my chest as I considered what I’d just been told. I didn’t like the idea of being on a river in the middle of the night. Not being able to see, in temperatures that were nearly unbearable. On the water they’d be worse. What if we capsized? What if we were seen and shot? There’d be nowhere to swim or run. We’d most likely drown.

“Kate?” Lee said. “Are you okay with this?”

I pictured Catrin, her blond curls and wide blue eyes the same shades as mine. Her small fingers constantly reaching for me, in the garden, at the beach, in my bed that she’d snuck into once again, her voice seeking me out at all hours of the day.

Our mother had just begun to scrutinize her the way she’d been doing to me for years. And then I’d left her, barely able to tell her, warn her, or comfort her, because in doing so, I might risk the plan.

I remembered when it had begun for me. My mother’s impersonal demeanor as she asked probing questions and inspected my body. I’d been young. Younger than Catrin. But also less agreeable. I recalled being sixteen and taking a bath, enjoying the solitude after a particularly uncomfortable dinner with my parents, Catrin in her own bathroom being tended to by Nanny Paulina. My mother had barged in and demanded I stand so she could inspect me, pinching the skin at my waist and inner thighs before making me turn so she could see my backside.

“Your father mentioned you look heavier. I see he’s right. Have you been snacking between meals?”

“Of course not, Mutter ,” I’d said, turning to face her once more.

The crack of her hand meeting my cheek echoed throughout the bathroom, the sound circling back and settling in my head, the force causing me to slip. I grabbed the side of the bathtub as she stood glaring down at me.

“I don’t believe you,” she’d said. “Until you stop. Until I see some change in your appearance, you will not be allowed breakfast and your dinner will be cut in half.”

I hadn’t said a word. It wouldn’t matter if I did. I’d merely nodded and waited until she’d left the room to let the tears fall.

I looked back at Lee, fury burning in my veins. I’d left Catrin with that monster. I had to make it right.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m more than okay.”