She hadn’t felt it in a long, long time.
“Sera?”
She whirled around, turning so quickly that the tip of her sleek ponytail almost smacked her in the face. The voice was too familiar to ignore.
Now she blinked. Several times.
He had a different cut to his sandy hair and looked like he’d caught a little more sun to the face, but otherwise, he was the same man she remembered. It was Michael Turner who stood before her, sleek Wall Street suit and all.
“Michael?”
He nodded, the glow of the streetlamp illuminating his features. “Hi, Sera.”
“What are you doing here?”
He walked up to the stoop and offered a faint smile.
“Can I come in?” he breathed out. “I need to talk to you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
February 8, 1941
What are you looking for, Adele?”
Vladimir checked over his shoulder again, looking down into the long alleyway to the deserted street. The noise at the docks wasn’t too far off, reminding Adele that people were never too far away to happen by and see them, even in the dark of night. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
She moved a crate out of the way to reveal a weathered panel of wood at the bottom of the bricks. “The entryway to the building has a false back,” she whispered, then knelt down on her knees. “See? Abram told me how to get in. We crawl through here and it takes you into the butler’s pantry off a back kitchen. It’s been sealed off from the outside. Bricks. No one would even know it’s there.”
She picked up the basket she’d hidden under her coat and started to crawl in, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.
Vladimir shook his head. “Uh-uh. No way you’re going in there first. If anything’s going to happen, it’s not going to be to you.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Vladimir. The sardine factory has been boarded up for nearly two years. There’s no one inside.”
“Except for the Jewish family hiding in the basement,” he huffed, and leaned back on his heels. He took a lighter from his coat pocket and offered it to her. She took it with a twinkle in her eye, glad to have won at least one battle with him.
“Don’t light it until I have the panel closed.” He checked up the alley again, then, seeing that the coast was clear, motioned for her to go first. “Go ahead.”
Adele felt her heart warm as she took the food basket from him. He was being rather noble, wanting nothing to happen to her. “Remember what we said? We’re in this together.”
“Nope. That’s what you said. I only agreed to this long enough for you to show me how to get in so I can take over this operation. Then you’re going home.”
She wanted to roll her eyes at him but thought better of it. He was being protective, and she couldn’t fault him for that.
Adele knelt down and ducked her head under the top of the wood panel, inching through the dusty crawl space with the basket in front of her. It was dark and full of spiderwebs, but she could see the light of the butler’s pantry enclosure up ahead. The moonlight shone through in a silver haze.
She heard Vladimir close the panel behind her.
“It’s just up ahead,” she whispered. “This way.”
“What’s the light? I thought you said the pantry was bricked off.”
“It’s a small ventilation window on the second level.” Adele shook her head and flicked on the lighter. “Don’t worry. I’ve done this a dozen times before. It’s safe.”
Vladimir groaned from somewhere behind her, showing his displeasure that she’d managed to sneak in to see the Haurbechs on so many occasions.
Probably should have kept that to myself.
“Right there,” Adele said, and leaned to one side so he could see a small opening up ahead. “That’s where we go in. There’s a stairway down to the basement behind one of the cupboards against the back wall.”
Adele crawled through the mouth of the opening that was hidden under a section of worktables affixed to the wall.
She looked around.
Spiderwebs and dust. The cupboards had been raided some time ago, but the sardine cans and rat traps on the floor hadn’t moved since the last time she’d come. She looked up. The window was still barred. All was as it should be.
She dusted off her navy coat and plucked the basket up off the floor just as Vladimir crawled out from under the table. She didn’t even have time to finish flouncing the dust out of her hair before he darted up to her side.
He grasped her elbow in an iron grip.
“Let go of me—”
“This is too dangerous,” he said, shaking his head at her. “You’ve showed me where they are. Now let me take over.”
“I can’t do that, Vladimir!” Her voice rang out in a biting whisper. “They won’t be expecting you. They’ll be terrified, thinking they’ve been caught. Remember the children? We can’t scare them like that.”
“Adele, the Gestapo doesn’t shimmy through crawl spaces to find hiding Jews. They knock down brick walls and open fire with machine guns. If the Haurbechs had been caught, believe me, they’d know it.”
“Then let me go so I can give them this food and we can leave,” she said, feeling his fingertips lighten with the last words. “I have to give them something, even if it’s only hope.”
He nodded toward one of the wooden cupboards against the back wall.
She tilted her head on instinct. “How did you know it was that one? There’s a wall of them.”
“Dust on the floor.” He nodded to the trail leading to the back wall. “Footprints, Adele. You never covered them up.”
She looked down at the floor to find the evidence of her former visits plain as day in front of them. The footprints led from the crawl space at the opening over to the back cupboard.
“There’s no way in and no way out of this room, Adele, except for the spaces your prints lead to. Anyone looking for hiding places would have caught you and them because of it. You didn’t cover your tracks very well.”
She felt the weight of foolishness wash over her and closed her eyes in shame. All this time she’d been visiting the Haurbechs, bringing them food . . . she’d thought she was doing something good. But it was luck. Pure luck that they hadn’t been caught with her petite footprints littering the pantry floor.
“See why I worry about you?” Vladimir leaned in and wiped a fingertip along the bridge of her nose. “Dust.”
Adele brushed off her nose on principle.
He was acting like she didn’t know how serious it was, sneaking in to help her friends. But she’d been the one to help them for months without anyone else knowing. He could give her a little credit.
“The stairs are here,” she said, leaning in to pull the cupboard back from the wall. “Behind this.”
Vladimir edged in around her, using his strength to pull the cupboard back in her stead. It didn’t appear to be needed. The wood separated from the wall on a hinge that pulled away rather easily. The void behind the wall was also brick, with stairs that led down into the basement.
“After you.” He didn’t appear to want to scold her any longer. Instead, he tilted his chin toward the brick opening.
Adele flicked the lighter again, giving them enough light so that Vladimir could pull the cupboard closed behind them before they descended the stairs.
“There’s a door at the bottom,” she whispered, and pointed to the faint lines of the portal up ahead. “See?”
She took the stairs one at a time, trying to make the least amount of noise with her feet against the creaking boards. He took the basket and followed her with cautious steps.
“Are they expecting us?”
“Yes. Elsa will be,” Adele whispered, and nudged her feet down the stairs in the dark. “It’s been more than two months since my last visit. I’m overdue.”
They came to the door at the bottom of the stairs and were met with a cold silence. Water dripped from som
ewhere in the recesses of the dark basement. Adele noticed that Vladimir kept checking over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t followed. How he could see anything in the dark, she wasn’t sure.
She tapped on the door, six times in succession with a break in the middle, the code they’d decided some time ago would only be for her.
There was a slight rustle on the other side of the door and it slowly cracked open.
A tall man with kind eyes and thinning hair poked his head into the stairway. The flicker of the lighter illuminated his face. He looked to Adele and inclined his head to her, greeting without words.
“Abram,” she whispered. “I’ve brought a friend. This is Vladimir. He’s here to help.”
Vladimir stood at Adele’s back but didn’t speak. He didn’t make a move to step forward or offer the basket.
“I have spoken with Elsa. We do not think it safe to open the door any longer,” Abram whispered, his voice gravelly, as though he needed to cough but wouldn’t. “There is too much risk.”
“But we’ve brought food,” she offered, holding out the basket with bread and fish. “For you and the children. Are they well?”
He shook his head.
“We’ve heard the Gestapo at night.” He looked to the ceiling with tired eyes. “They’ve been patrolling. They’ve not found the pantry, but they’ve been in the warehouse. Searching. Tearing down walls.”
“But how could they know?”
Abram shook his head and lowered his voice to a cryptic whisper. “There were rumors that there were Jews hiding in this part of the city before we went into hiding. The brave ones left more than a year ago.”
Adele shook her head. “I think it’s the brave ones who stayed,” she said, taking the basket from Vladimir to offer to the family. “May we come in?”
He looked to the ceiling again, then nodded. “For a moment only.”
Adele walked into the room, finding Elsa standing in the corner. When they connected eyes, her shoulders relaxed and she stepped forward to embrace her in a hug.
“Adele.” She offered an embattled smile, welcoming her. “I’m so glad you’ve come.”
Vladimir walked in behind her and, after bolting the door closed, began looking over the room from floor to ceiling. He must have been as concerned as she was, for the living conditions were deplorable.
Their living quarters were lit only by moonlight from a shutup ventilation window high up on the wall and a small fire lit in the woodstove in the corner. There was a brick wall along the length of the room, with large pipes and ducts that gathered dust along the ceiling. Water leaked somewhere in the corner of the room, and the air in the room hung thick with the smell of mold. There were threadbare linens hanging from a rope fastened to a pipe from one end to the other. There was a single rocking chair and a small table, with dishes and a tub for washing, pushed up against the far wall. Stacks of books created tiny mountains on top of a small bookshelf in the far corner of the room.
Adele could see the heads of the children, the older Sophie and her little brother, Eitan, bundled up in their blankets in a bed that was squeezed up in the corner closest to the stove. The gentle cadence of their undisturbed breathing told her they were asleep.
Vladimir stepped up to address Abram, concern evident on his face.
“It’s not safe to be burning wood,” he whispered, and walked over to kneel in front of the stove. He pointed up to the window set high on the wall. “The smoke. Someone will see it.”
Abram shook his head and pointed to where the pipe exited through the ceiling. “The flue system is adjoined with the apartment building behind the warehouse. This used to be the foreman’s private quarters when the warehouse was in operation.”
“Is that building in use?”
“Yes. It is,” Abram confirmed, nodding.
“And the window? Won’t someone see the light?”
“I only burn it on the very cold days. The children—they’ve not been well. Eitan has a cough,” Elsa answered, stepping up to her husband’s side. She swallowed hard over the emotion that had caused her voice to crack. “This room goes up more than two stories. The window is frosted glass. And the back of the warehouse has long since been gated. No one can see it from the outside.”
“How do you know?”
“One of our friends used to own this factory.” Elsa looked down at the ground for a moment. “He’s gone now. But he suggested the back of the factory as a hiding place once, because of the extra boiler room. Said he was going to bring his family here if things got bad in the city. We remembered.”
Vladimir looked from the distraught woman back to Adele, who felt tears burning her eyes. She shrugged. What could they do?
“Abram. Elsa. We can get you out,” Vladimir began, his voice laced with empathy. Adele bit her bottom lip over the emotion that was building, threatening to boil over as tears. “Maybe not right away, but I’m willing to try. I have contacts in Switzerland who would be willing to receive you.”
“No.” Abram brought his hand up in the air, as if cutting off all talk on the matter.
Adele stepped up to Vladimir’s side then, hoping to offer some reassurance that Vladimir could be trusted. “Please listen to him. Vladimir has done this before. He’s been able to get others to safety.”
“We thank you, but no.” Abram shook his head.
“But he can help you. He’ll guarantee your safety,” Adele said, and looked up at Vladimir. “Won’t you?”
Vladimir said nothing. Instead, he exhaled a soft breath of air that she saw leave his shoulders.
“Mr. Nicolai.” Elsa addressed him with a soft, almost melodic voice. “Can you guarantee safe passage if we try to leave Vienna now?”
All eyes went to Vladimir, who stood with solidarity. He surprised Adele by reaching out for her hand and held it almost hidden at his side. “No,” he admitted, and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “I cannot guarantee anything at this point.”
The Haurbechs nodded, looking one to the other. Elsa broke into silent tears and leaned in to rest her head on Abram’s shoulder.
“We can plan, though. We can get you out of here as soon as possible, before the Gestapo comes back. We can bring you forged documents, traveling papers for you and the children.”
“We’ll be staying,” Abram said. “We can’t take the risk. Not with the children.”
Vladimir sighed. “You won’t change your mind?”
Adele looked up at his profile again, noticing a stony resolve she’d not seen in him before. The Vladimir she knew wasn’t this quiet. But then, she’d never seen him in authority over such a situation before. She’d brought him to be the Haurbechs’ savior that night. In truth, he looked quite up to the task, had they needed one.
After one more squeeze, Vladimir let go of her hand.
He walked over to the small table and began emptying his pockets. He set several tins on the table. “Sardines, though I know they’re about the last thing you’d want to see,” he offered, then followed with a handful of small potatoes, three small casings of salted meat, a bar of soap, and several small paper packets. “Aspirin and an antibiotic. Please don’t ask me where I got it.”
Elsa ran over to the table, grateful to have the wares he’d brought.
“And this,” he said, placing a pocketknife in her outstretched hands. “It was all I could find. There’s no metal left in the city, I think.”
In the next instant, he had shed his coat and tossed it on the rocking chair. “Take it. It should fit one of you.” He then shrugged off his sweater, a thick weave of dark navy, and held it out to Elsa. “At least hang this up over the window at night. Even the tiniest light from the stove could draw attention.”
Adele could have cried when she saw Elsa’s arms as she accepted the sweater. They were so tiny, with bones protruding from her wrists like a ghost. Her skin was pale and pinched, her once rosy cheeks a shadowy gray color. Even her chocolaty hair now seemed dull, pulled back
in a stringy knot that looked streaked with gray.
She looked over at Abram, the wonderfully gifted musician who’d played viola in the orchestra years ago. Adele had met them through the university, where he’d been a professor. He was handsome, with a congenial smile and a booming laugh that the students enjoyed. But no one had seen him in more than a year, not since it was rumored that the Haurbechs had left Vienna for a relative’s home in the countryside. And the laugh that had been missed in the university halls was now replaced by a hollow voice and hands that wrung until his knuckles turned white.
They looked weary. And so unlike the couple she’d once known.
Adele felt her heart breaking for what used to be.
Vladimir turned to Abram. “You have water?”
“Yes. There is an old well at the back of the property. We’ve been able to draw water.”
“Adele? Is that you?” A little brunette head popped up from the sea of blankets on the bed, a girl with a sweet smile and lopsided braids.
“Sophie,” she whispered, hoping her voice sounded a little cheery. She pulled a box from the basket Elsa held and walked over to the bed. “I have a surprise for you, my dear friend.”
The little girl smiled softly, showing off a missing tooth. She too seemed tired, weary from the fear and the lack of nutrition. Adele hated to see it.
“I’ve brought you a box of your favorite.”
Sophie’s eyes lit up when she saw the box. “Shortbread!” she whispered, holding it up so Elsa could see. “Look what Adele’s brought me.”
Adele reached inside her coat and retrieved a small book from the inside pocket. “And a new book, as promised. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.”
Sophie delighted in the gift and swung tiny arms around her neck. “Thank you,” the little girl said, forcing tears to escape from the corners of Adele’s eyes.
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