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“The barge is back, Evi, in the same berth alongside the Spaarne where it has always been. Menee r Steegen says it is still in fair condition and does not appear to have been ransacked.”

Evi thoughts flew to baby Jacob, but Mevrouw closed her eyes and shook her head. “There was no baby, Evi, no one living or dead on board the barge…But everything else – your clothing, pots and pans…everything seems to be the way it was left.”

Mvreouw paused. “It is your home, Evi,” she said finally. “You are able to return to it if you wish. ”

Tears sprang, faster than fireflies on a summer night, and Evi let them flow. She shook her head. “I cannot return…not now, not yet…”

Mevreouw covered the space between them and took her into her arms. “It is all right, Evi. I understand. Behagen , you may stay here as long you like…it is only that you needed to know…”

ZOE

The phone was ringing as Zoe fit the key into the lock of her apartment. It was past nine, the end of another long day helping Gerrit deal with the trials of too many people in too little space, and fearful of Gestapo intrusion.

She was tired to the core, but the phone still shrilled. She sloughed off her coat and reached for it.

Her mother’s voice was so full of fright, so pierced with moans and muffled sobs, that Zoe could not decipher the words.

“Mam,” she begged. “Slow down, behagen . I cannot understand. What is wrong?”

Her mother took a jagged breath. “Zoe…I’ve been trying to reach you for hours. Your father …the Germans took him!”

Zoe sat heavily in the nearest chair. “What? When, Mam? Why?”

Her mother sniffled, blew her nose, took a deep, wobbly breath. “Inciting rebellion. That is what they said.” She blew her nose again. “They beat him, Zoe,” she said, finally. “They dragged him by his arms out the door…”

“Inciting rebellion…” Zoe tested the words, trying to imagine what in the name of God her mild-mannered father might have done.

But it was not relevant, not at this moment. Instead, she steeled herself against the memory of her child minder dragged by the Gestapo out of her home .

“Where did they take him, Mam?” she asked, trying desperately for calm. “Do you have any idea where they might have taken him?”

Her mother once again dissolved into tears. Zoe gave her a moment.

“Mam,” she tried again. “I need to know. Do you have any idea where he might be held?”

A new wave of sobbing. More nose blowing… “I do not know, Zoe, I do not know…Wait…wait…perhaps…”

“There is a barn,” her mother managed at last. “A big old barn on an abandoned farm just down the street from the old feed store…”

“Yes, I know it…”

“Early in the war, it is where the Nazis held scores of Jews during the roundup here in Enschede –”

Her voice broke. “Well, for a while anyway, until they were…transported elsewhere...”

“I did not know that,” Zoe said, her own dread mounting as she tried formulate a plan. “I am not certain what I can do, Mam,” she said. “But I have some friends I can call on. In the meantime, behagen , please, try to calm yourself.”

She listened as Mam’s breathing slowed. “Is there anyone you can call to stay with you?”

But this brought another spate of tears. “ Mevrouw Van der Wall is our nearest neighbor,” she said finally. “But her husband was taken, too!”

Zoe frowned. Van der Wall, too?

“Mam,” she said slowly. “You have no idea why they were taken?”

A long, tremulous breath. “Something about – identification papers,” she said finally. “A few of the men here have been urging people to turn over their papers to the Resistance, then report them as stolen and apply for new ones…”

Zoe closed her eyes, instantly reminded of the dozens of ID papers she had stolen. She would not have expected her conservative papa to so actively support the Resistance .

“All right, Mam,” she said finally, with as much calm as she could muster. “Please take care of yourself. Think of better times. Let me see if something can be done…”

MILA

Mila hunkered down in the privacy of her closet and tried once again to reach Pieter. But the call went unanswered, and she lay back against a row of long skirts and pounded a fist into her hand.

There was little doubt in her mind now that Pieter had, as Johan Steegen had suggested, gone back to Amsterdam to finish the failed assassination – without her.

The lack of detail about de Boer in the daily newspapers suggested that authorities wanted the public – and his would-be assassin – to know as little as possible about de Boer’s condition or his whereabouts.

But there were a limited number of hospitals still operating in Amsterdam, and Pieter was resourceful enough to figure out quickly enough where the man was being treated.

Wherever he was, the verdomd police captain was undoubtedly heavily protected – but if Pieter could not get to him while he was still in hospital, Mila had little doubt he would stay close enough to try to finish the bastard once he was released to his home.

Rising, she returned to the three days-worth of newspapers strewn on her bed to read a few of the stories she had only skimmed. A piece in the Telegraaf caught her eye.

‘As neighboring Belgium is in the throes of liberation by advancing Allied forces,’ the story read, ‘the Dutch government is urging General Eisenhower’s chief of staff to begin an offensive to liberate the Netherlands…’

The Reich, in a bid to show how well they were treating the Dutch, had responded with a show of largesse, allowing distribution of the Swedish food and medical supplies they had withheld since the twenty-eighth day of January.

Mila sighed. It was encouraging news. But how quickly would the Allies respond ?

Restless, she gathered up the newspapers, crushed them into a heap and tossed them into a wastebasket. She paced once or twice around her bedroom, pausing only to ruffle Hondje ‘s topknot.

Pieter was right to return to Amsterdam without her, she decided. What could she have done to help him?

On the other hand, if he found himself in trouble, who would he have to turn to? What would happen, lieve God , if he were discovered – or captured? What then ?

The thought of losing him…of never seeing him again, was enough to flood her with resolve.

She threw a change of clothing into a shoulder bag, searched her handbags for as many guilders as she could find, and stuffed them into the bag as well.

She put her identification papers into one section of the bag and the false Swiss papers Pieter had given her in another.

She slipped on her most comfortable walking shoes and opened the door of her room.

It was past eleven and quiet, the household asleep. She would not be missed until morning.

Bu at the sound of the door opening, Hondje stood upright in her bed, tail wagging.

“Hush, now,” she whispered, fingers against her lips. “I will return soon – and Reit will take good care of you in the meantime.”

Hondje slid forward on his two front feet, his little backside in the air. Blowing him a kiss, she closing the door gently and tip-toed down the stairs.

EVI

A sudden rapping at the front door yanked Evi out of a restless sleep. Otto barked furiously. She sat up, pulling the blankets around her, too terrified to move from the sofa. Lieve God , had she somehow led the Germans to the Beekhof farm?

In seconds, Meneer Beekhof bounded into the room, his bare feet slapping at the wooden floor .

The pounding continued, but Evi thought she heard a woman’s voice.

“ Behagen ! It is Zoe! Zoe Visser! I am so sorry to wake you!

Evi met Meneer Beekhof’s gaze, watched him move stealthily toward the door.

The pounding slowed, and the voice could be heard quite clearly. “ Excuseert, behagen ! It is Zoe Visser!”

At Evi’s nod, Meneer undid the front door’s three locks, peered out, then opened the door. “ Kom binnen ,” he said. Come in.

At the sight of her friend, clearly frantic, Evi threw aside the blankets and ran barefooted to the door.

“I am so sorry to wake you,” Zoe was shivering. “I know I must have given you all a fright.”

Her words were directed at Meneer Beekhof, but she nearly collapsed into Evi’s arms as she spoke.

By this time, the rest of the family had gathered behind them, Jacob rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Mevrouw put he hands on her Evi’s shoulders, leading her and Zoe toward the sofa.

The last of the evening’s fire crackled in the hearth, casting each face in eerie shadows. Papa Beekhof moved to light a lantern.

Seated, Zoe took a trembling breath. “I am sorry to alarm you. I was not able to contact Mila. Nor could I reach Johan Steegen – and so, Evi, I come to you. I need help.”

Evi listened as Zoe told them about her father’s arrest by the Germans, that Gestapo thugs had appeared at her family’s door without warning and dragged her papa out the door, just as they had at the home of Daan Mulder,

“My Mam is near hysteria,” Zoe said. “But it is possible she knows where they may be keeping him – for a while, at least, until they are able to move him – who knows where…?”

Zoe’s voice cracked. She was clearly working to hold back tears. Evi took her shaking hands in hers.

“I have no firearms, and anyway, I don’t know how to use them,” Zoe said.” I had thought once that I might learn, but they frankly frighten me – “

She paused. “There is no way to know if we can locate papa, or if there is any way to help him – and perhaps I have no right to ask…But I know that you have been learning to shoot, Evi, and I may need protection…”

She took a breath. “Will you come with me to Enschede – tonight?”

“I will go with you,” Jacob’s voice was firm. “This is way beyond the means of the two of you.”

A vision of Mam surrendering her life to the sea at the hands of the Germans passed before Evi’s eyes. For the first time in her life, she felt fully grown, as though she had slipped, without notice or fanfare, into the skin of adulthood.