Edward pulled up to the innermost curb in the yard where the Major and Henri alighted from the back without a word. They did not give Edward a glance as they went about the plan with military efficiency. And Edward took up his prayer again. It was all he could do, all he could think.
Keep her safe, Lord.
* * *
Isa heard the boots on the cement floor approach. If she’d been able to eat anything the night before surely she would have lost it now. The sound echoed in the predawn stillness along the curved ceiling, the metal bars. How soon that sound came. Earlier than she’d thought, but how could she know? Time had stopped mattering, as if she’d slept, then woke, and could no longer tell how much of the night had passed. She didn’t remember sleeping.
She had prayed through the night. Between her prayers she’d wondered what she would feel after they tied the blindfold around her eyes. If she would feel each bullet or just the first. If this side of death would hurt.
But this morning she was strangely calm. She knew within a few hours she would be in God’s presence. In some mysterious and unexpected way she found herself longing for the moment. Wasn’t that the way it should be if she truly believed as she said she did? Why, indeed, would anyone choose to remain on earth when heaven beckoned? She remembered a verse from Hebrews: Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross. She too would endure death by the hand of others but soon know that joy.
This was the only difference between her and most who died. She knew the moment death would arrive. And her moment was soon.
Only when her hand happened across the letters she’d written did that calm threaten to shatter. Leaving those she loved was her source of pain. She knew life would be hard for them until that day they too came to the joy.
“Shutz.”
The single word calling the guard started her heart galloping. It was time; it was time now. Could she face it without abandoning everything she believed?
She stood, gathering the letters atop the Bible. She must give them to Franz. Here was her comfort, knowing her words would reach those for whom they were intended. She prayed it would make it easier, not harder, for them to say good-bye.
Franz opened the inner bars. That lock had not been touched since the day Edward had smuggled himself in to see her. The iron hinges squeaked a protest when they moved.
“Franz.” She looked at his sad countenance and handed him the goods. “Remember what I said about the German Bible. Don’t break that promise, my friend.”
He accepted the book and the folded letters on top. He nodded, then looked away. Did his hand tremble as he took the bundle? Hers were so calm!
There was nothing left to do except retrieve her flute. Music was a gift from God. She would go to her grave holding the instrument through which that gift had so often flowed. She also took the blanket off of the cot. Tir National was a good distance away, and she would have need of it, at least until she got there.
Then she turned for the first time to the soldier who would escort her. And nearly gasped.
Major von Bürkel. Now her heart hammered anew with confusion and something else. What was he doing here? She swallowed down anxiety and unbidden hope. Surely he was here as nothing more than a comfort, to offer a familiar face instead of the cold, impersonal ones of the strangers who would end her life.
Isa bowed her head, afraid her face might give something away. She followed him, the blanket clutched around her shoulders in tight fists.
Another soldier stood just outside the holding cell. A huge man. She would not have looked twice except that the presence of the Major made her curious about everything involved in her exit from this prison.
And then she knew, without doubt, that the Major had not come simply to comfort her in her last hour.
It was Henri.
Isa’s knees weakened. Every steady thought was washed from her mind, and yet she kept still until the moment she had to step behind Henri and follow him out.
What were they doing? Risking their lives—for her? How could they? She alone was to