Page 48 of The Nanny Outside the Gates

FORTY

HALINA

It’s been two weeks since I heard Gavriel’s voice, but it drifts through my mind like a feather dancing along a breeze.

I hear him when I’m falling asleep at night and sometimes right when I wake up, and I’m with him in my dreams most nights too.

Except, I always wake up to the painful reminder that a dream is just an illusion devised by the hungers of my heart and mind.

I’ve never thought about anyone so much, so distractingly, so frantically in my life.

I’ve known nothing other than learning to live without love, but that was before I knew what it felt like.

Flora’s resting on her tummy in the center of her room, reaching toward me with a groan.

“Come on, sweet girl, come get the teddy bear,” I coo at her, bouncing the bear next to me, encouraging her to push herself up on her knees to crawl again.

But she’s staring at the doorway, a small droplet of drool forming on her bottom lip, her eyes wide, and a gleeful sound of what sounds like a “hi” from her sudden interest in trying out words.

I sling my focus toward the bedroom door, and an icy chill trickles down my spine. Are my eyes deceiving me? I push myself up from my twisted posture, needing to move in closer, to see if this is real. If he’s real.

I’ve been hearing his voice. I could be seeing things now too.

But this sight, it’s too hard to imagine. It’s heartbreaking.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from reacting.

“Gav…” I utter, his name a question in my throat.

What did they do to him? It’s as if they just wanted to keep him alive but with only a few last ragged breaths to sustain him.

The sight of him holds me hostage. Every fiber of muscle and fat has depleted, leaving his skin draping over his bones.

He clenches his hands by his side, a tremble quaking through both fists.

A dirt covered bandage is still wrapped around his hand, almost as if it’s part of his skin now.

His shirt clings to his hollowed chest, his cheeks cave inward, and he’s covered in dirt, only the mere whites of his eyes being the source of light coming from his body.

He tries to stand up straight but grabs a hold of the wall.

I don’t want him to see what I’m thinking, the shred of my heart tearing deeper into my core.

He needs strength from me, not sorrow. I can hardly take in a full breath as my lungs constrict.

The last time I saw him, he was tired and hungry, but he was whole—he was all right.

His hand was wounded, but he was fighting through this battle like a warrior. This isn’t the same man.

I push myself up, my legs unsteady, numb as I move toward him.

“My God,” I utter, gently pulling him into the room—to me, feeling the heaviness of his frail body.

I wrap my arms around him, holding him so tightly, I’m not sure either of us can breathe.

“I thought—I was sure you—” I gasp for air, the relief and pain swelling into one overwhelming sensation.

“I know,” he replies. “I’m still alive, somehow, and—” he takes a few short breaths. “I didn’t think you’d still be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“What happened?” It’s a short question with an answer I might not be prepared to handle.

His eyelids blink so slowly, I’m not sure he has the energy to explain. “They—uh—they put me in a cell, underground, with nothing, not a place to move, or sit. It happened after Adam was shot, after we arrived back at the camp.”

“Adam,” I say, realizing it was him. He was shot. I heard his death.

My stomach aches and my knees strain against my weight, trying to offer support. For Adam. For him.

He closes his eyes and keeps them closed for a long moment as if he’s trying to recall memories.

“I was interrogated about Adam and the other prisoners who work in the Sch?fer house, then forced to agree to things that didn’t actually happen.

They told me I was a traitor, but I wasn’t.

I don’t think. I don’t understand what that means. I’m a Jew. How can I be a traitor?”

His words are slurring and I’m not sure he’s going to be able to stay on his feet much longer. I’m not sure how he even made it here like this. “All right, hush,” I tell him, brushing my fingers across his stubbled cheek. “You’ve been through too much. It’s too much.”

It’s too much. I feel sick. I might get sick.

I reach for breaths that have escaped me, trying to anchor myself in this moment, remember what I’m doing, who I am, and why I’m here.

Flora.

I check on her, finding she’s sitting upright, holding the teddy bear, staring at us. “Can I help you up the stairs?”

“No. I—I’ll get up there,” he says, his words saying one thing and his body saying another.

“Well, I’ll—I’m going to find food and wet rags.”

Gavriel nods his head weakly. “You can’t steal anything from the house. They’ll kill us like they did Adam, and I don’t think he even took anything.”

It was me. I’m the one who has been taking things for the sake of keeping Gavriel alive. “That’s why they killed Adam?”

“It’s my fault,” he utters.

“No. It’s mine. It’s all mine. You can’t take this blame. I will tell them it was me, so they know how wrong they’ve been in punishing you.”

“No,” Gavriel growls.

Flora peeps out a quiet cry.

“It’s okay, princess,” he whispers. “I’m not mad. See?” He tries to smile but his bruised face is swollen in too many areas beneath the hollowed caves of his cheeks.

“I won’t argue with you, but don’t argue with me either. I will not stand by and watch you—” My throat tightens, and hot tears burn the backs of my eyes, a sensation so foreign to me.

“I’d rather starve to death than chance something happening to you,” he argues. “I don’t want you to go through that.” The sound of his voice fades before his last word.

The thought of Ada’s guilty demeanor and the fear in her eyes after catching her with her fake pregnant belly…the strength I garnered in that moment…I need it all back now.

“Ada is going to help us escape. I’m going to get you out of here. I am.”

The confusion weighs over his eyes, his bottom lip hanging. “What? How?—”

I nod sharply. “It’s-it’s true,” I utter, my words stumbling. “Two weeks ago, the last night you were here, I caught her.” The memory of her adjusting her fake belly nauseates me still.

“Caught her?” he says before swallowing hard.

“Yes. Her pregnancy is fake. It’s an impossible situation, something she couldn’t lie her way out of.

In return, she agreed to let us go. She said it would take some time, and I haven’t pushed her because all I could think of was you—whether you were still alive.

If I’d see you again. How I could find you.

Then I’d assume the worst and the cycle would start all over again.

But you’re here now, you’re alive—and I’m collecting on her agreement. ”

Gavriel blinks slowly, transfixed with confusion. “Fake?” he repeats, clenching his eyes as if struggling to think. “The-the…secondary infertility diagnosis, it was true…” He peers over at Flora as the scattered pieces fall into place. “And Flora…”

I nod, a grimace tugging at my chin, aching.

“She’s been lying to everyone,” I confirm.

“The dates from the doctor’s letter and Flora’s age don’t line up, and neither does the rest of the uncovered information.

Heinrich has no idea, and if he finds out, she’s finished.

She’s going to give me what I want. What we need. Or—or I’ll—I’ll ruin her.”

“I don’t…” Gavriel’s stare is unbreakable against mine. I’m not sure he’s taken much of a breath in the time I’ve been speaking. It’s a lot to take in.

“Go upstairs. If you need help, I will help you up there. Otherwise, I will go gather what I need to help you get better. Then we are getting out of this place, together. Do you understand?” Each word is pushed through clenched teeth, my eyes are wide with the fiery anger writhing through me, failing to understand how anyone could treat someone as innocent as this man the way they have.

Gavriel’s eyes squint and his chin trembles. “Yes,” he whispers.

I feather my fingertips to his cheek, worried about causing him any pain. “I’m here with you. You’ll be all right. I promise.”

“I’m scared,” he says through a weak breath. “What if she’s setting a trap? I don’t know why they even sent me back here. What good am I now?” He looks down at his failing body and shakes his head.

I don’t trust Ada. But I can’t waste a chance to escape. “If it’s a trap, I’ll make sure we aren’t caught. We’re going to get through this. Together.” I feel the promise deep in my chest, but I know the risks involved too.

He reaches for my shoulder and wraps his arm limply around my neck, struggling to pull me in closer.

I’m careful as I touch the side of my face to his chest and loosely loop my arms around his waist. His heart is beating so hard against his ribcage, I can feel it inside of me.

I need to be here, with him, like this, in his arms, he in mine.

We’re supposed to be together as one. I can feel it in every bone in my body.

I don’t know when I began to feel so much passion and longing for this man, but it happened somewhere between the rush of risks, the way he coos at Flora, and his relentless faith in me. I couldn’t have planned for this, not in a million years, but here we are. In the impossible. The two of us.

He presses a kiss to the top of my head and takes in a long inhale. “You’re the one who saves me—how lucky am I?”

Left in a state of shock after Gavriel limps down the hallway toward the attic’s staircase, I’m numb all over.

I’ve never seen someone so brittle and battered, and to imagine the pain he must be enduring…

I should have found a way to help him sooner or at least be more careful about how I helped him.

I replaced the sandwich. I doubt she’d even noticed the gold watch and brooch was missing, not with how many items she’s stolen.

My guilt has been eating at me, the entire time he’s been gone. I need to make sure this plan goes off without a hitch.

I hold Flora closer to my chest, her heartbeat calm, peaceful and unknowing of the ugly world around her.

With a quick glance out of Flora’s bedroom window, I make sure Ada isn’t anywhere in sight.

She doesn’t come back to the house until after the girls come home from the school, despite the continued arguments between her and Heinrich about leaving the house unattended.

Since the revelation between Ada and me, I’ve been stashing non-perishable food away in my suitcase little by little each day.

There wasn’t a plan yet—not without knowing what had happened or what was happening with Gavriel.

I just knew I had to be ready for whatever came next.

No one else has been here but me. Not one of them returned until today.

Not even the kapos. I was the only one she could blame for stolen food, which wouldn’t help her.

However, as many days have passed without a word about our agreement, I fear I might need more bargaining power at this point. More proof. Something to seal the fate of this agreed escape.

“We’re going to take a little trip into Mama and Papa’s bedroom,” I whisper to Flora.

“Ma!” she shouts.

“Shh,” I hush her.

I go right for Ada’s vanity, my footsteps restrained but determined as I make my way across her pristine polished floor.

A tremor jolts through my hand as I pull open the top drawer on the left, and the movement awakens the remnants of her expensive perfume, still lingering from earlier in the morning, blunt and rosy.

I suppose roses can mask any facade. I shuffle through the top papers quickly, my fingertips skimming through the small pile of photographs on top until I find it—the prescription, and secondary infertility diagnoses papers.

A floorboard creaks in the hallway and my veins fill with ice and stone. I shouldn’t be afraid of this woman. I shouldn’t have to be. What if it’s someone else, though?

With nowhere to run, I wait for another sound, but there’s only silence to follow. I fold the papers in half and shove them into the pocket of my apron, hoist Flora higher up on my hip and make a run for the door.

No one is in the hallway. I’m not sure what I heard.

With only a moment of hesitation, I yank open the closet door and grab a few folded rags.

In the washroom, I soak two of them in water, wring them out, and head for the attic stairs.

As we reach the top step, Flora’s chin lifts from my shoulder and I twist to see what’s captured her attention.

A look of confusion tugs at her blonde brows and she lifts her hand over my shoulder.

“Ma-ma.” My pulse hammers. I turn, half-expecting to see Ada, but the hallway is still.

It’s empty and just as silent, but Flora’s tiny hand is still pointing.

Whoever saw me or is watching me from afar—I don’t care anymore. I’m done being patient. I need to get Gavriel out of here before it’s too late.