Elise snuck Maggie, still with her gray hair and humpback, up the servants’ staircase of her home.
“How long have you been hiding people here?” Maggie whispered as they tiptoed up the stairs.
“Only since the party. I snuck the first man in that night, actually.”
Maggie raised an eyebrow. “You snuck someone into your house the night of Clara Hess’s party—with all those Nazis around?” She whistled through her teeth. “As they say in Britain, you have stones, Elise. Big stones.”
“Do I even want to know what that means?”
“I’ll explain when we get out of here.” She stopped and grabbed Elise’s hand. “You are coming with us, yes? We are all going together?”
“I’m not sure,” the other girl said. “My biggest concern is getting the three of you out. As for myself … Well, I love my country, even though things are horrible right now. If I leave …”
“Who’d be left to pick up the pieces?” Maggie finished for her, realizing that Elise was going to stay, regardless of the danger. “I understand.” Then, “Do you still want to become a nun? Even after witnessing all this?”
“I’m trying to keep in mind what Thomas Aquinas said in his Summa Theologica.”
“Sorry,” Maggie said. “I’m not familiar with it.”
“St. Thomas said that there can be both an all-powerful God and evil in the world—because an all-powerful God is powerful enough to turn evil into good—even if we don’t know exactly how or when He does it.”
Maggie shrugged. “If an all-powerful God is going to turn evil into good, I really wish He’d hurry up.”
In the attic, John was sitting up in the armchair while Ernst was sprawled on the mattress on the floor, reading a book.
Elise gave the secret knock at the door, and then opened it. “Gentlemen, we have a new guest,” she said. Maggie followed her into the room.
Maggie saw a man in a chair, head raised from the book he’d been reading. “John?” she managed finally. He blinked.
“My God.” She unpinned her hat and dropped it to the floor, then took down her hair. As it spilled out, the red became visible against the gray.
His eyes widened. And then he said, “Maggie?”
“John.” She took a step forward. “Are—are you all right?”
He rose. “I’m … How did you find me?”
Maggie and John continued to stare at each other. Finally, she moved toward him, tentatively traversing what seemed to be an enormous, perilous distance. Right before she reached him, she tripped on the edge of the carpet and stumbled, falling on one knee.
“Ouch,” she said, and then found she couldn’t move.
“Easy there.” John knelt and held out his hand. It was thinner than she remembered, she could see the blue veins through translucent skin, but she took it, fighting back hot tears.
“You look absolutely terrible,” John said, helping her to her feet and brushing the ash off her cheeks with his fingertips.
“You look pretty awful yourself,” Maggie found herself retorting. He did. His hair was streaked with gray, his eyes were shadowed, his shoulders held so much tension they looked hunched. “Like you’ve been through a war or something.”
“Or something.”
Maggie reached up, putting her arms around him. He smelled like John, her memory of John—warm and soapy. His muscles were still lean and wiry. He held her so tightly she could barely breathe. Neither of them said a word, but there was enough electricity between them to make Maggie tremble.
They sat down on the bed, holding hands, faces wet with tears. “We all thought—I thought—” Maggie began.
“That I was dead?” John wouldn’t let go of her hand. “Almost. But I never stopped loving you. I never gave up on you. And thanks to Elise …”
“My God,” Maggie moaned, and buried her face in his neck, holding on tight. He was there, he was real, he wasn’t an apparition.
“I love you, Maggie,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I never stopped loving you.”
Tears stung Maggie’s eyes. She thought of the memorial service they’d had for John.
“I love you, too. And we need to talk. But first, we need to get out of here.”
Ernst grinned. “At the risk of stating the obvious, I’d say you two know each other.”
Elise wiped at her wet face, then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we must get moving. I have a plan—it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but I was waiting for John to recover fully before I suggested it.”