“The heron came back just after winter, but the time wasn’t right.” The lie burned her tongue and she flushed, something she had never done before.
“The heron has been back all this time!” Lea’s mouth tightened. “It’s not winter now, and still you kept a message that was meant for me. You stole it!”
Ava had often regretted asking the heron to carry Lea’s and Julien’s messages. She’d thought there would be no harm in it, but she was wrong. “You may not understand everything I do.”
“I understand perfectly. You want to keep me away from Julien, because I’ll leave with him, and you don’t want me to cross the border.”
“But I do,” Ava insisted. “I promised your mother I would get you to safety.”
“And yet we’re still here.” Lea held Ava in her gaze. “You and I know why. You don’t want to do what you promised my mother because you know what happens once I’m safe.” Every word Lea spoke was brittle, a sharp broken hook. “You’ve known all along. You know what she wants me to do.”
“I want the best for you.” Ava felt something sharp inside of her. By now she knew that people always lost what they loved most.
“I don’t care,” Lea cried. “I’m leaving here. I’m following the map.”
She went to get her suitcase. Let Ava try to stop her. She would scream her head off if need be. She was nearly as tall as Ava and she wasn’t a girl of twelve anymore. She would never be a child again, and she didn’t have to listen to anyone.
Watching her, Ava felt as if she were breaking. It was all true. She might have taken Lea to the border a hundred times, but she had done as she’d pleased; she had her own mind and her own desires. She had wanted to remain in this glorious world, despite how wicked those who inhabited it might be. She had let her desire for life affect her vow.
She had betrayed her maker.
“You can’t go alone,” Ava said now. She reached for the suitcase. “I’ll go with you. Let me pack.”
Lea scowled. “I don’t need you.”
They both took hold of the suitcase, and when they tugged, it flew open. Before their eyes, the lining split in the place where Hanni had sewn a thousand miraculous stitches. Inside the torn lining, hidden there on the day they left Berlin, was a blue dress, perfectly made. Mein Schatz, her mother had written on the note tacked to one sleeve. Für dich.
My darling, for you when you reach safety.
Lea sank to the floor, the dress in her arms, her face hot with tears.
Heart of my heart, love of my life, the one loss I will never survive.
As for Ava, she was sick with shame. Her emotions were so raw she could feel herself melting, and a pool of muddy water gathered around her on the floor. That was when she decided, they would leave that night.
Ahron Weitz gave Lea one of his paintings, the night sky filled with stars. She embraced him, but not for too long. They would likely never see each other again, and so there were no goodbyes. Weitz stayed at the window and watched them go. They had thanked their hosts, but thanks could never be enough for people who were willing to risk such danger for complete strangers. Lea said a blessing Bobeshi had taught her at their door, the Hashkiveinu, a petition for safety through the night.
Lay us down, our God, in peace, and raise us up our King, to life. Spread your shelter of peace over us, and over all of Israel and Jerusalem.
It was dark, a good night for traveling, for cutting across fields, and finding the twisting road that had been sketched in blue, the same color as the sky when they reached Monsieur Félix’s farm in the pale morning light, for they had been walking all night. There was Beehive House, exactly as Julien had drawn it before Monsieur Félix was murdered, before he worked as the Bissets’ carpenter, before he went to Izieu. The farm was deserted except for a small goat that had been tied to a post in the stable, a creature so delighted to see them that it jumped into Lea’s arms when it was freed.
The door to the house was locked, so Ava shoved open a window and climbed in. She could smell death, and she called for Lea