“Have you got them?” Renata asked.
Magda reached into her coat pocket and withdrew the extra ration cards. They were all there. The ration cards were their new currency and the way Aleš and Renata and Davide and who knew who else paid people to shut up and look the other way. This was how they planted food in the fields for the laborers from the Jewish ghetto, or near the railroad tracks for the prisoners unloading coal. They did this with the hope that it was somehow helping the Taubers inside.
Renata rifled the coupons under her nose, as if inhaling the pages of a new book. She tapped them lightly against Magda’s cheek. A kiss of gratitude. “Thank Frau Koenig and the SS Obersturmbannführer for us.”
Magda laughed abruptly at the absurdity.
Renata reached into the second coffin, a bishop’s. “When is the witch due?”
“Any day now.”
“Then this will be one of the last times you have to do this.”
“She keeps talking about how this is just the first of many. She wants one of those pins that the Führer gives to honor mothers.”
“And in the Taubers’ house.” Renata turned around, holding a burlap sack. “It’s blasphemous! Damned Nazis breeding little Fascists. If it’s a girl, they’ll groom her into an obedient baby machine. If it’s a boy, he’ll be another soldier for Hitler.”
Magda thought about that.
“Your decoy.” Renata pushed the sack at her. “I think there is a wedge of cheese they managed. Some oil, nuts, and preserves. And a sack of flour.”
But not the things Magda had had coupons for. She took the sack. “It’s been hard to invent excuses.”
“You’ll learn.”
“I came to tell you that there are six commanders coming to the house tonight.”
“All right.” Renata nodded. “Aleš will come by then.”
“Dinner’s at eight o’clock.” Magda looked at Renata’s scanty sack, opened it, and began to transfer the items into her bread bag. “Jana’s going to catch heat for this.”
Renata scoffed. “I’m not worried about Jana. She always makes do. That woman is probably the most resourceful of any of us. Same place as always. You hear anything, anything at all, you leave us the message, all right?”
“Yes. Of course.” Magda’s job was not to interpret but to relay.
“And in an emergency?” Renata reminded. “If they suspect you in any way?”
“Proverbs seven twenty-two.”
“Proverbs seven twenty-two, and we’ll get you out.”
Magda handed her the bread roll. “This came in too.”
“And so we break bread again.” Renata smiled wryly. She took the roll and slowly tore it in half. The cream-colored slip of paper was exposed. She handed Magda half of the roll. They each took a bite, their ritual of swallowing secrets.
Renata stuffed the rest of her roll into her mouth and unrolled the slip of paper. Her face fell.
“What?” Magda asked.
Renata handed her the slip. “Heydrich is dead.”
Magda stared at the message. Not a week earlier, assassins in Prague had tried to assassinate the SS commander. He’d died of his wounds. The resistance fighters had been eliminated on the day of the attempt and killed in a church just like this one.
“It means there will be reprisals.” Renata snatched the message back, brushed a hand over her curly mane. “Koenig’s going to go mad.”
“What does that mean?” Magda swallowed, but her throat was tight. Right now she wanted to crawl into that coffin herself instead of going back outside and returning to the villa.
“It means,” Renata said, steering Magda back to the stairwell, “you’re going to have a lot of information to transcribe.”
They reached the top, and Renata pressed an ear to the door. Satisfied, she waved Magda through, but Magda spun around and hugged her tightly.
“I miss you, you know? All of you.” She choked. “I wish it was you doing this, not me. You’re so much braver.”
“You are the bravest person I know, Magda. You’re the one amid that devil’s lot.” Renata pulled her away and shook her a little. Her eyes grazed over Magda’s crooked nose, and she leaned in to kiss Magda’s cheek before releasing her. “Besides, Aleš is my husband now. I am with him wherever he is, even if it’s underground like mice in a cellar.” Her smile dissipated. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about how it all turned out.”
“Don’t.” Magda would cry, and she did not have the luxury. Not here. She took a deep breath, steadied herself. “Kiss the boys for me, please. Hug them tight.”
On the way back up the hill and to the mansion, Magda stopped along the road, stepped blindly into the woods, and, when she was out of sight, finally allowed herself a good cry.
Aleš barreled between Frau Tauber and Magda, snatched Eliška into his arms, and pushed Magda with Samuel into the house. Behind her, she heard the first truck brake to a halt at the iron gates. Not the front gate used by visitors and patients, but the service road gate.
Magda pressed Samuel against her and fled behind Aleš, just barely registering Renata bursting through the front door.
“Go,” Aleš shouted at Renata. “Now!”
Where? Where was Renata to go? But Aleš grabbed Magda’s hand and dragged her and the baby up the stairs to the third floor. At the end of the hall, he threw open his bedroom door. As in Magda’s room, the attic windows overlooked the gardens, and they stood open. Below, the military trucks were pulling into the drive.
Magda glanced down at Samuel. His eyes were wide, and he made little noises, his breaths coming quicker. She hugged him to her and bounced him. Please don’t cry. Please!
Aleš lowered Eliška to the floor, then opened his wardrobe. Inside, his few items of clothing were neatly hung or folded. On the bottom of the wardrobe, two goose-down covers were stacked one
