“I should come with you.”
The girl shook her head several times. “No. She doesn’t want them to see you. Wait. It will only take me a minute.”
The girl turned and ran off before Marion could say anything more. Not sure what else to do, Marion pulled her head back into the kitchen and let the drape close over the opening. She tried not to think of anything, but her mind wouldn’t let that happen.
The girl had been left at Roslyn’s Place only a week before. Not a baby, but no more than four or five. Iris couldn’t tell anyone how old she was. It wasn’t just that she didn’t know; she had no concept of age and probably never would. She’d been born with Down syndrome and would forever need the help of others to survive. What tears had been on the girl’s cheeks when they found her soon disappeared in smiles and laughter as Frau Roslyn and the other children welcomed her into their family.
Marion could hear someone enter the dining room. She gripped the Taser tightly in her hand, ready in case the new arrival was not a friend. But when the curtain was pulled aside, Marion relaxed. It was Roslyn.
The old Swiss lady was short and thin with a wrinkled face and white hair that stopped just above her shoulders. And while her appearance did nothing to hide the fact that she’d seen more years than most, she exuded an inner strength, a confidence that made the toughest of men pause before deciding to take her on.
“Come with me,” Roslyn said.
Without another word, the old woman went back into the dining room. Marion followed.
“How long have they been here?” Marion whispered once she caught up to her.
“Fifteen minutes.”
“They haven’t found her, then?”
“No,” Roslyn said. “But they know she was here. Someone must have told them. They say they won’t leave until they find her.”
They crossed the dining room toward the hallway that led to the office at the front of the building. Marion was about to ask another question, but Frau Roslyn held up her hand, stopping her.
“You must be quiet,” the woman said. “They will hear you. And if they hear you …”
She didn’t have to finish the thought. They both knew what would happen.
As they entered the short hallway, Frau Roslyn paused. There was light at the far end where the small building lobby was located. Above them, Marion could hear the movement of several heavy sets of feet. There were also the muffled cries and voices of children unsure why they had been woken in the middle of the night.
Frau Roslyn took several quiet steps forward, passing the door on the left that led to her office, and another on the right to the makeshift first aid station. Again, Marion followed.
They stopped a couple feet shy of the end of the hallway. If anyone had walked by, the light from the lobby would have been more than enough to expose Marion’s presence.
Frau Roslyn leaned to her right, looking into the lobby. The angle would give her a view of the front door. When she straightened and turned around, she whispered almost too low for Marion to hear, “Two soldiers, but they’re still outside. Come on. We don’t have much time.”
She pushed past Marion and opened the door to her office. Unlike the back entrance, the hinges on this door were well oiled and made no sound. Frau Roslyn motioned Marion inside, then she closed the door, easing the latch into place.
“The soldiers,” Marion said, “they won’t hurt the children, will they?”
The woman shook her head. “Jan is up there.”
Jan was Roslyn’s cousin. A large Swiss-German man who had the benefit of being a former member of the Swiss government, something Roslyn would have made sure the soldiers knew.
“Where’s Iris?” Marion asked.
Roslyn put a finger to her mouth, then turned and edged her way around the large metal desk that seemed to take up half the room. She reached up and made sure the curtains across the window on the back wall were fully closed. Then, instead of sitting down in the old wooden chair, she continued past the desk to the sidewall. Like the rest of the room, the wall was painted off-white. On it were hung several framed pictures of Frau Roslyn with children who had at one time or another lived in the orphanage. They all seemed to be smiling and happy and content.
The old woman moved one of the pictures to the side and touched a spot on the wall. There was a faint click, then the wall eased open an inch. Roslyn reached around the edge of the opening and pulled the wall out like a door.
Marion’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Come, come,” the old woman said.
Marion hesitated a moment longer, then moved around the desk and joined Frau Roslyn.
Since the hidden door swung out into the office, Marion had not been able to see what was inside until the door was all the way open. The space it revealed wasn’t large, maybe a meter deep at best, and only as wide as the opening. It was made even more cramped by the fact that it wasn’t empty.
One of the older boys was inside. He was maybe thirteen or fourteen. Marion had seen him many times before but couldn’t remember his name. In his arms he held another child. A girl, much younger than he was. Her head rested against his chest and her eyes were closed in sleep.
It was Iris. There was no mistaking her.
The old woman held her hands out, and the boy gave her the child.
