Betty’s earrings were pinching her so she unsnapped them as she watched Helen whisper something to Ruth. Was she jealous of Helen’s success? And if she really poked the tender feeling deep inside her, was she even a little jealous of Helen’s affection for Ruth? Since qualifying for the team in Providence, Betty had been trying not to stir up her doubts about her own running abilities, and Helen’s idolization of her had provided a comforting tonic while aboard the S.S. Manhattan. Did she miss being the center of Helen’s attention?
Their car slid to a stop and Betty peered out the window to see swarms of partygoers swarming the dock at the River Havel.
When Helen had first brought up the idea of attending the party, she had been souvenir shopping with Betty and Ruth in a boutique on Kurfürstendamm. At the mention of Pfaueninsel Island and Herr Goebbels, Ruth had appeared uncomfortable. “Are all of your teammates going?” she asked, riffling through a rack of colorful postcards. “I have not heard the other guides speak of it.”
“No, I’ve gotten a special invitation and can bring a few friends,” Helen said, winking at Ruth. “Hey, when we’re done with racing, what do you say we try for a little day trip here?” She held a postcard of a grand palace. “Sanssouci Palace. It looks so beautiful and romantic and the name means ‘without worries’—isn’t that perfect?”
Betty barely glanced at the postcard and instead focused on Ruth’s tense expression. It was unlike Ruth, who was normally so cheerful, to balk at anything Helen proposed. Since Ruth had mentioned that her family lived in Charlottenburg, Betty had been making inquiries of the other guides about the city and pieced together that the Haslies lived in an upscale neighborhood. The guides had been selected from Berlin’s finest families, which begged the question: Did Ruth’s parents serve in the Reich?
“Ruth, why do you ask who else is going?” Betty asked.
“It’s a party for some of the highest members of the party. Many important politicians will be there and . . .” Ruth’s voice trailed off. She gestured that they should leave the shop and led them a ways down the sidewalk to stand under a plane tree.
Ruth shook her head and studied the people wandering past before whispering, “Betty, pull out your cigarettes and light one so we can talk a moment without drawing attention.”
Betty lit one and raised her eyebrows at Ruth, awaiting explanation.
“There are spies for the Reich everywhere. You both must be careful. Helen is a figure of interest and people are watching her.”
Betty had taken a deep inhalation. “To be honest, Ruth, I’ve wondered where your loyalties lie.”
“Betty, come on now—” Helen began, but Ruth stopped her.
“No, it is fine. You are smart to be paying attention. Many of the guides probably are informers, but I am not. Because of my language studies and my father’s administrative position with the city, I was a good candidate for this program, but I have no real affiliation with the Nationalist Socialist Party.”
Betty had figured out that most of the guides were proud members of the party. When she had spoken with Annette’s guide, the young German woman had plucked what she called a Nationalist Socialist friendship pin from her chest and handed it to Betty. The smooth, colorful enamel pin with its bold black swastika on its center had felt surprisingly heavy and Betty had tried to appear delighted, even as she pocketed the loathsome memento swiftly.
Betty looked into Ruth’s vivid blue eyes. “But that still doesn’t really tell us why we should trust you.”
When Ruth raised her hand to push back a loose strand of blond hair from her face, her hand was trembling. “My maternal grandmother was raised Jewish, but converted and married a Protestant,” she whispered. “My father has always identified as a Christian. This technically gives me the status of a mischling, but since my grandmother spent the majority of her life on the register in a Christian church, her origins have not been discovered. My family must hide this aspect of our ancestry. It is a secret. My father could lose his job. We are merely trying to fit in and not raise any questions in anyone’s mind. Please believe me when I say you can trust me.”
“But surely they don’t keep track of everyone’s religion for generation upon generation. That sounds impossible,” Betty said.
“If they can locate the information, they track it,” Ruth insisted.
Helen inhaled sharply and took Ruth’s hand. “Your secret’s safe with us.”
Betty nodded, although the truth was that she still didn’t really understand the full implications of what Jewish ancestry meant. Helen had spoken of the Führer’s speeches about creating a master race and eliminating the Jews, but the idea sounded far-fetched, impossible to carry out.
“I’m very fond of both of you,” Ruth said, looking back and forth at Betty and Helen, but she allowed her gaze to linger on Helen.
“I’m one of the most visible athletes here. Nothing can go wrong,” Helen said. “I’ll accept the invitation to keep our hosts happy, right? Let’s just go and see what all of the hullabaloo is about. It’ll make for an interesting story to take back home.” She folded Ruth’s arm under her own as if that sealed the deal.
They had returned to shopping for small gifts to bring home, but the seriousness of that conversation had stuck with Betty. Helen was very knowledgeable about newsworthy people and events and their import, but with the breathless news coverage of her athleticism increasing every day, she seemed to believe she was invincible.
Their car had been idling in a line of party guests unloading, and when a liveried servant opened the car door to help
