Read Finding Sophie for Free Online

slept ten hours at least every night, and to the best of my knowledge, had a cast-iron stomach.”
    “Well, mostly I do,” I say.
    “I was both proud and ashamed of you. Uncle Gerald, who is surprisingly perceptive, said, ‘Sophie seems to have settled the question. We'd better get along, my dear. Two and a half hours' drive, at least. Thanks for tea, Margaret.’”
    “Uncle Gerald gave me a shilling when they left.”
    “More than you deserved, young lady.”
    “You would have been bored with a perfect child, Aunt Em.”
    “No danger of that. Good night, darling. Don't stay up drawing too late.”
    “How did you know I was going to?”
    “Like my brother, I'm quite perceptive. I'll come and tuck you up soon.”
    “Good. I don't think Aunt Winifred has tucked anyone up in her entire life.”
    “Sophie, Gerald is my only brother. Let's make an effort.” I kiss the top of her head and say okay and run!
    One of the things I can't bear about Aunt Winifred is that she's always reminding me that I don't belong here. She makes me feel “temporary.” I'm not, I
do
belong here. It's my home.
    Upstairs I rough in some of the sights: the statue of Eros, the crowds, the face of the girl who had stared at me. No good, I can't do anything justice – I'm too tired. My hair on the pillow smells of smoke from the bonfire in the palace gardens. I close my eyes….
    Mama lets Zoffie carry the string bag with apples home from the evening market. It's cold. Zoffie wears her new red hat and mittens. The street lamps are lit; people hurry home.
    Mama rolls pastry and slices apples.
“Apfel kuchen für Papa.”
Very carefully Zoffie layers the apple slices, then Mama gives her a handful of raisins to sprinkle over them.
    “When is Papa coming home?” Zoffie asks.
    “Soon.”
    The apple pie is ready; it had cooled. Mama and Zoffie wait. Then they eat supper.
    A soft tap and a voice at the door. “Frau Mandel, let me in.” It is Frau Wiege from upstairs. “There is burning, looting in the streets.” She whispers something, and goes out hurriedly. Mama locks the door.
    “What is burning, Mama?”
    “Leaves, grass.”
    “The leaves are finished, Mama, it's winter.”
    “And some are left. It's your bedtime.”
    “Mama, when is …?”
    “No more questions, Zoffie.”
    There are noises in the night: breaking glass, shouting and laughing, tires screeching in the street outside their apartment. The air is full of smoke.
    In the morning, Mama says, “No school today. You can come to work with me.”
    Mama's shop is beautiful, not like next door. The glass is smashed there. Herr Eckstein is scrubbing the pavement. He does not look at them.
    Mama hurries Zoffie into the back room. She begins her search for pins. When the lady who owns the shop comes in, Zoffie hides under the table.
    “Good morning, Frau Mandel. I am sorry to bring you bad news. You are a good worker, but there have been changes. I am sure you understand. You need not finish out the week. Here. …” She gives Zoffie's mama an envelope.
    Papa does not come home again that night.
    Next day, very early, they hear Papa's key in the door.
    “The Gestapo let me go – this time. I am a Jew with an Aryan wife. My employer says the work I do is ‘essential’; it can be done only by someone like me.”
    “For how long is gardening essential?” Mama asks, and pours Papa his coffee. She does not smile.
    “I have not eaten since the ninth.”
    “Two days?” Mama cuts more bread. “Later we'll talk. Not now.”
    “Zoffie,” Papa says, when he finishes breakfast. “What shall I draw for you?”
    “A garden. Papa, we baked you an apple pie. Where were you?”
    “In a garden like the one I'm drawing for you. It's called a maze – a labyrinth.”
    “Where are the flowers? Why are the paths going round and round in circles?”
    “It is a crazy garden – a kind of puzzle. People go into the labyrinth. Some stay and go round and round forever. Some are lucky