Lea saw her mother as she was, fierce as always, but broken inside.
“Where will you be?” Lea asked.
“I’ll be here, taking care of Bobeshi.”
Bright tears burned in Lea’s eyes. “Then I will be, too.”
“No,” Hanni said. “You must honor your mother, as I honor mine. This is not a choice. You must do as I say.”
“You’ll send me away alone?”
“Of course not. You’ll be safe with Ava. She will follow you to the ends of the earth. And she’s stronger than a hundred horsemen. What you ask her to do, she will do without question.”
“I won’t go,” Lea cried. “You can’t make me.”
Without thinking Hanni slapped her daughter, the love of her life, the child she would have done anything for. Lea put a palm to her cheek, confused by her own feelings.
Hanni sank to her knees, reaching to take the girl’s face in her hands. “I need you to do as I say.”
Perhaps her mother blamed her for what had happened with the soldier and this was her punishment, to be sent away.
“When you travel you will no longer be yourself,” Hanni told her.
She would be Lillie Perrin, a Catholic accompanied by her cousin Ava. Jews were no longer issued visas or allowed to travel outside the country, and if asked she must remember an unfamiliar prayer to prove her identity.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.
That evening they shared the last pot of Hardship Soup. It was made only of cabbage and water, for there were no longer any spices. Ava lifted Bobeshi from bed and carried her so she could sit at the table, something she hadn’t been able to do for more than two years.
Bobeshi kissed Ava in gratitude. The kiss was sweet and pure. “She is the one,” Bobeshi declared.
“Why is she so strong?” Lea asked her mother.
“Because she needs to be,” Hanni told her daughter.
In the midst of the heartbreak of what was to be their last dinner, Hanni took out a small paper box. Inside was a gift she’d planned to give her daughter on her thirteenth birthday. Now she understood that they would not be together on that day.
Hanni had considered this gift carefully, ordering it before the Jewish jewelry stores had been closed down, forced to turn over their gold and silver to the government. The charm she’d had fashioned was a silver triangle marked with Lea’s birth date and three Jewish stars. On the back there was the mystical letter hey, the most mysterious symbol in the Hebrew alphabet, which in the ancient world could mean thread or window or fence or behold. It was made up of three lines to represent the three aspects of humanity: the physical world, the spoken word, and the soul. It was one of the names of God. It was protection, it was love, it was a secret, it was the beginning, it was the end.
Hanni clasped the necklace at her daughter’s throat. She must keep it hidden to ensure that no one noticed the Hebrew letter, but one day, when she was at last safe, when there were no more soldiers on the streets or murderers knocking at the doors, she must unlatch the necklace, open the charm, and do exactly as she was instructed.
“You cannot debate or make up your own mind. You must do what I’ve written. Do you understand me?”
Lea didn’t understand the way the soldier had touched her, or the demons in the trees, or why the dark-haired woman sat at their table. She didn’t understand why her mother would give her such a beautiful gift when Lea had caused Hanni to become a murderess. There was still blood on their shoes. Their visitor had taken it upon herself to clean them, wiping the leather with warm water, then using a stiff wire brush to get rid of the last of the stains.
“My dearest,” Hanni said. Mein Kind, mein Schatz. Heart of my heart, love of my life, the one loss I will never survive. “Make me this single promise and I will never ask you for anything else.”
“Yes,” Lea said. She had decided not to cry, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t broken inside. “I will do as you say.”
To say goodbye is a terrible thing, made even worse when you don’t know why you are being sent away.