Page 58 of The Lost Husband

“We’ll leave a note at the registration desk,” Christoph says quietly, carefully. “In case—in case he does come looking for you.” There’s hope in his words, yet he’s watching me, waiting to see if I’ll echo this hope.

A state of denial is easier than facing reality. I understand this more than anyone.

“Christoph. Noah can’t come to find me. I need to find him. He’s heading west toward the larch mills and a coal loading location along the rail lines in Gliwice. That’s where the freight line is. That’s where he’s supposed to be in two days.”

Christoph sighs and pulls out a small map, unfolding it several times before tracing his finger from our starting point to the left. “All right, but… it could take us longer than that on foot, and that’s if the roads are clear.”

TWENTY-THREE

CURRENT DAY

Myslowice, Poland

Every step we take away from the town-hall shelter, my unease grows. Elias and Avi don’t know the full truth about me seeing Noah at the train depot a week ago, which means they don’t know that’s why we’re following this route. Avi hasn’t asked for details and I haven’t offered them. I’ve put them through enough.

But leaving them behind would feel wrong too. They’re young. I don’t know what’s safe. Neither do they. Neither does Christoph, for that matter. No one does. And despite my private agenda of following Noah, northwest is still the only direction the Soviets are pushing to end German power. It’s still the logical choice.

Elias is still charging ahead with Avi in his arms as Christoph pulls his map back out, folding it down to the square we’re moving through. “How do you know this route toward the freight line is safest?” I ask quietly.

Christoph doesn’t stop moving. Fog exhausts from his mouth, enough for me to gauge his level of frustration.

“I don’t,” he says. “I only know which routes we shouldn’t be going.”

“That’s not a good enough answer,” I argue, wrapping my arms around my waist to stop myself from shivering so hard.

Christoph drops the linen sack off his shoulder and yanks out one of the wool blankets and hands it to me. “Celina, it’s the only honest answer I can give you. This country is in ruins. Roads are gone. Villages blown to bits. I’ve been keeping track of what has been obliterated.”

I drape the blanket around my shoulders and clap it together at my neck.

“How have you been keeping track of this?” Since the war started, everything has been a mirage of truths and lies.

“After the Allied bombs hit Amsterdam two years ago, I started reading headlines—between headlines, weighing data, watching the economy—doing what Noah would do. We’re living in a lawless time, something I never thought would happen. And I was wrong.”

There wereAlliedbombings at home.

“What part of Amsterdam got hit?”

“North, away from the city center.”

“I didn’t know.”

Christoph takes a deep breath and scratches his fingers against his chest. “I had—I had moved just across the river shortly after you—a friend took me in…”

It’s hard to avoid the feeling of resentment. I try to push the thoughts away whenever they fill my head, but there are still questions of why me—why us—why all the Jewish people? Why would Christoph need to be taken in by a friend?

“Celina,” he says, “I?—”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” I tell him. I’ve known Christoph long enough to read the guilt on his face.

“Yes, I do. I can only imagine what you had been thinking, and what you still do think.”

“It doesn’t matter, truly.” Maybe not at this moment, but someday, it might.

Christoph cranes his neck to catch my fallen gaze. “Please, listen to me,” he says. “Shortly after you went to stay at the convent, the man who was leading the forgery resistance program that Noah and I were working with was captured by German soldiers. Jewish names were exposed. All the work we had been doing stopped abruptly, and our concerns turned to anyone we were protecting. I knew anything I sent you would be flagged, and I couldn’t risk your safety. I knew the church would take care of you—and—well, the—your—ba—baby—” He pauses, and I’m not sure if it’s for a response or his own need to take a breath. “I knew that even when they found out you were pregnant, they would take mercy on you and keep you both safe. They wouldn’t release a pregnant woman onto the streets…”

I stare through Christoph. My mind blank, hollow, full, upside-down. “You were right.” It’s all I can say.

“What—what happened?”