Emil crossed his arms. “They’ll catch you on foot. They did it twice.”

“Not on foot this time,” Corporal Gheorghe insisted. “That pony is stout, almost as big as a horse. We’ll ride him. We’ll find train tracks, find a train, jump on, go west.”

For a moment, Emil embraced the idea of escaping with the Romanian. He was only half-crazy, and he’d predicted they’d meet again, hadn’t he?

What if he’s right? What if we could . . . ?

He thought of the pile of dead bodies he might see in the morning and have to bury. It made his skin crawl.

“I can’t do it.”

Corporal Gheorghe tilted his head, the smile back. “If you can’t, you must. It is always so. Come, we will escape together. We will go find your wife and her sister, sweet as honey.”

Emil swallowed hard. “There are reasons I can’t join that detail.”

“What reasons?”

Feeling his heart and breath start to race, Emil realized he’d never told anyone about Dubossary. But gazing back across the table at the corporal, he felt compelled to describe that night, to confess to another the depth and nature of what he’d done.

Over the next twenty minutes, he told Corporal Gheorghe the story of Dubossary up to the moment Captain Haussmann handed him the Luger and ordered him to prove his German allegiance by shooting the three young Jews. But then the triangle rang, telling them to leave the mess hall and prepare to march to the museum basement.

“What did you do?” Corporal Gheorghe asked.

“I—”

“Move!” a guard shouted, and then pointed at the Romanian. “There are still two bodies out there. One on the road. One near the hospital. Go get them.”

He got up, staring at Emil. “Join the burial detail. You must tell me what you have done.”

With that, he walked away. Emil watched the Romanian leave, noting for the first time how light on his feet the man was, so fluid in his movements, he seemed to glide. By the time Emil went out into the blizzard, which continued without relief, the death cart was gone, and with it, Corporal Gheorghe, who suddenly felt like his last hope.

But the burial detail?

As he marched back to the museum, the thought of loading bodies on that cart, frozen or not, made Emil feel like he’d been locked in a space so tight, he could barely breathe while invisible hands laced his stomach in knots.

Christmas Day 1945

Gutengermendorf, Soviet-Occupied east Germany

Adeline awoke shivering in the dark church, sat up, and saw light streaming under the rear door. She almost got up to gather her things and return to Walt and Will. Instead, she wrapped her blankets around her shoulders, got on her knees, and prayed for safety for her, the boys, and Emil.

When she stood to fold and pack, however, Adeline did not feel safe. Not with Captain Kharkov and his men still living in the Schmidts’ home. That sense built as she left the church and trudged back through town and up the knoll to the farm.

It had snowed seven centimeters overnight before the temperature climbed above freezing. Now a dank drizzle fell, and she walked through slush.

“Merry Christmas, Mama!” Will and Walt cried when she unlocked the door to their room in the outbuilding.

They jumped off the bed and ran into Adeline’s arms. She held them tight and kissed them each on the cheek before saying, “Merry Christmas to both of you dears.”

Will stepped back. “Do we get presents?”

She smiled. “I understand Frau and Herr Schmidt found presents for you under their tree last night.”

Due to the circumstances, they were forced to break custom and celebrate on the morning of Christmas day instead of Christmas Eve.

“Really?” Walt said. “What?”

“Get dressed, and we’ll go and see.”

Will was dressed sloppily in seconds and bounced up and down as Walt went through the process with more time and care.

“C’mon, Walt,” Will moaned.

“You want me to go barefoot?”

“If you have to.”

“I don’t have to, and I won’t,” his older brother said, pulling on his shoes.

“Mama!”

“Calm down, Will,” she said. “The presents will still be there waiting.”

“But I’m waiting!”

“And I’m done,” Walt said, getting up to grab his warm coat.

Will ran to the Schmidts’ house and disappeared inside while Walt held Adeline’s hand and walked with her.

“Mama?” Walt said. “Is Will always going to be in a hurry?”

She thought about that and smiled. “I think so. It’s his nature.”

“He’s always going so fast, he makes me dizzy sometimes.”

Adeline laughed. “Yes, he makes me dizzy sometimes, too.”

They kicked the slushy snow off their boots before they went into the farmhouse. Frau Schmidt had been up cooking sausages from the pig they’d butchered the month before. The smells in the house were delicious as she glanced around, happy not to see any of the Soviet soldiers up and about, especially Kharkov.

“Merry Christmas!” Frau Schmidt cried from the kitchen, where Will was already munching on one of the cookies.

“Merry Christmas!” Adeline replied.

“Mama, can I have a cookie, too?” Walt asked.

“Of course,” she said. “It’s Christmas Day.”

He took off his coat, hung it, and kicked off his boots before trotting through the main room into the kitchen to get his cookie. Adeline followed him, happy to see the fire dancing in the stove, and how warm and inviting it all was.

Herr Schmidt was drinking hot tea. When the boys were finished with their cookies, he said, “I think I saw presents for the Martel boys under the tree.”

Will and Walt looked to their mother, who nodded. “Go ahead.”

They ran to the other room and found two small presents wrapped in butcher paper. Will and Walt opened them and drew out two wooden spinning tops that Herr Schmidt had carved for them.

He showed them how to get them going and how they could battle each other. Their shrieks of laughter and triumph when one knocked the other top over made Adeline feel better than she had since Emil was taken.

Outside, she could see that the drizzle had turned to snow again. Herr Schmidt, going to look out the window at a thermometer, saw the temperature was dropping, which he told the boys was a good thing for their other present.

“Another one!” Will cried. “Where?”

“In the barn,” he said. “Get your coats and hats on, and I’ll show you.”

Walt said, “You want to come, Mama?”

Adeline had heard from Herr Schmidt what else he planned to give the boys the week before and nodded. “I do.”

“I’ll have hot tea and cider waiting for you,” Frau Schmidt said.

They dressed and went out into the lightly falling snow and the deepening cold. They’d only been in the house an hour, but the slush mixed with the new snow was freezing already, turning crunchy and slick, perfect for the boys’ big present.

Herr Schmidt had the sled up on a bench in his barn. It had belonged to his son when he was a boy. The farmer had fixed it up the week before. It had a seat, two runners, and a rudder to steer and slow it. He showed them the runners—wood with screwed-in metal edges and another strip of metal down the middle—and how to turn them with the rudder.

“Who’s first?” Herr Schmidt said. “Walt?”

Adeline’s older son appeared uncertain. “Will can go first.”

Will grinned and nodded. “Yes, please.”

The old farmer led them out of the barn, back into the snow, and set the sled at the top of the knoll above the snow-covered field and the village beyond. Will got on it and held the rudder with both hands.

“How do I get it going?” he asked.

“I’ll push you,” Herr Schmidt said, put his boot on the back of the sled, and gave a big shove.

With a whoop, Will went flying down the knoll and out onto the flat before crashing. Adeline had a moment of panic until her younger son rolled over onto his knees and threw his arms in the air, laughing.

The sled had a rope that allowed Will to pull it uphill. Walt looked scared before he went, but with Herr Schmidt’s coaching, he, too, went sailing down the knoll and onto the flat. He didn’t crash, jumped up, threw his head back and yelled, “I love this!”

When he got back to the top, he said, “Your turn, Mama.”

“Yes!” Will said.

“I don’t think . . .”

“It really is safe,” Herr Schmidt said.

Reluctantly, Adeline sat on the sled, watched the farmer show her how to use the rudder, and then screamed with delight as he gave her a shove, and laughed as she started accelerating down the hill. She kept the rudder steady and flew even farther than the boys out onto the flat.