pleased him once, but the loss seemed trivial now.
It was indeed warmer in the familiar kitchen. The table was gone and in its place stood a smaller version and two plain wood chairs.
“I found these tucked in a corner of the garage. Evidently the looters missed that spot.”
Edward took a seat, and the Major produced two cups, hot water, and tea. What might have once been awkward for Edward now seemed ordinary, that he should sit at the same table with this German officer.
The Major looked at Edward as he poured. “I see you aren’t a priest, but you aren’t her nephew either, are you?”
Edward shook his head.
“I thought as much, to be perfectly frank. I thought the resemblance too strong. Is she your mother?”
He nodded. “How do you know she will be freed today?”
“Because it was I who arranged it.”
“You . . .”
“I don’t know all that went on here,” he said with a glance toward the pantry door, “but I’ve come to know your mother. She doesn’t deserve to be in servitude and certainly not in prison.”
Edward nodded again, taking a sip of the hot beverage.
“I will be returning to Germany soon,” the Major went on. “I wasn’t sure she would know how to find you, so I hoped you would get my message. And so you have.”
Edward eyed the older man curiously. “Isn’t this quite a switch for you? dangerous, even, for you to show us such kindness? knowing what we’ve done?”
He shrugged. “Not dangerous. Foolish, perhaps, though my career in the army is over anyway.” He patted his injured leg. “I serve a higher General now.”
“God?”
The Major laughed at Edward’s expression. “Is it so surprising?”
“I . . . no. My mother once told me you followed the same God. I am indebted to you for helping her.”
“No. Don’t be.” The Major stood, going behind his chair and leaning on it rather than on the cane still hanging on the edge of the table. “Your mother will be here soon and I think it’s wise that only you be here to greet her.”
“You don’t want to see her? Even though you came here to help her?”
The Major started to speak but at the last moment held back, looking away and shaking his head.
“What shall I tell her?” Edward asked. “Shouldn’t I tell her it was you who helped her? She’ll want to see you, to thank you.”
“No, she needn’t do that. When this is over, when she’s safely away, tell her . . . tell her I couldn’t see her again. Some good-byes are too difficult to do more than once.”
Edward wished he could put a hand to the Major’s shoulder, tell him that he understood, as incredible as it seemed to share such an unwanted bond. Saying good-bye to Isa would be unendurable.
But Edward didn’t know how to share that bond, and so he folded his arms and regarded von Bürkel a moment longer before speaking. “You’re going back to Germany, then?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll spend the night at the Kommandantur. There is a cot folded away in the pantry. I spent last night here. But it isn’t adequate for you and your mother. You must find another place to stay or somehow replace the missing furniture. I can fairly assure you the secret police have no interest in her—or this place—anymore.”
Edward said nothing about his plans to take her across the border as soon as he had Isa at his side, and to keep her well out of sight until then.
The Major took up his cane as if to leave, and Edward’s pulse sped. He’d scoured the city looking for help, and here before him might be his only chance. If he could ask.
“Major . . . you’ve helped my mother. Is there anything to be done for Isa?”
He leaned on his cane, shaking his head slowly, sadly. “I don’t think von Bissing himself could change it now, were he well enough to intervene. He’s quite ill, so I’ve heard.”
The pulse that sped went along faster, hotter, through Edward’s veins. “They have no more right to murder Isa than they did when they took the lives of all the others accused of treason. Treason! Tell me, Major, how is it that Isa is accused of treason when it isn’t her own government handing down that sentence?”
The Major looked at Edward and the implacable facade that Edward had seen covering the older man’s face a moment earlier softened. “Don’t you see? There’s nothing that can be done.”
Edward shook