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would he get to Amsterdam?”
    Cecile answered between chews. “By wagon or coach, I suppose. Or, if you had money, you could travel by ship.”
    â€œIs there any other way to get there?”
    â€œSure. You could fly like a bird!”
    â€œVery funny! As if people can fly!”
    â€œWhy are you asking all those questions?” Monica demanded.
    â€œI just wanted to know. One day, I’d like to go to Amsterdam,” Johanna said.
    â€œWhat would you do there?” Monica said.
    â€œI could sell my lace work,” Johanna said. “Or even become a governess.”
    â€œYou?” Monica snorted. “An upper-class family would never hire you.”
    â€œI’ve heard that Amsterdam is a beautiful city,” Cecile said, putting a hand on Johanna’s arm.
    â€œThere’s only one problem,” Monica said.
    â€œWhat?” said Johanna.
    Monica sneered. “They let Jews become citizens.”

    The next evening was Friday. Johanna sat alone in her room. She fingered Mama’s lace kerchief. Since she had come to the orphanage, she hadn’t dared light Sabbath candles. But tonight she felt lonely. She yearned for the glow of the candles.
    She put two candles in candlesticks on the table, placed the kerchief on her head, lit the candles, and began to recite the blessing. “ Baruch atah adonei eloheynu —”
    Someone was knocking on the door. Johanna’s heart skipped a beat. “Who is it?”
    â€œIt’s me.”
    â€œCecile?”
    â€œMay I come in?”
    â€œJust a minute!” Johanna shoved the kerchief under her pillow and opened the door.
    â€œWhat took so long?” Cecile asked. She gazed at the candles flickering in the dimness. “Those candlesticks are beautiful. Where did you get them?”
    â€œI … I borrowed them from … Frau Hartmann.”
    â€œYou did? Why?”
    â€œI … I misplaced mine.”
    â€œI see.” Cecile looked puzzled.
    â€œDid you want something?”
    Cecile looked about the room. She seemed to have forgotten why she’d come. “Oh, can I borrow a needle and thread?”
    â€œOf course.” Johanna rummaged in the top drawer of her dresser. “Here,” she said, handing the notions to Cecile.
    â€œThank you. Have a good night.”
    â€œYou too.” Johanna’s heart was pounding and her fingers trembled. Has Cecile guessed my secret? Some non-Jews know about Sabbath candles. Will she tell Frau Taubman before I escape? I’ll have to leave the orphanage. I won’t be able to rescue Rebecca. And if I don’t, she will surely die.

— Chapter Six —
    An Unexpected Companion
    On Sunday, Johanna wore her shawl to the nursery. When no one was looking, she stuffed clothes and diapers into the shawl. Later that night, she stole bread and cheese from the kitchen, as well as a small jug of milk for Rebecca.
    Her hands shook; her legs trembled. She had an uneasy feeling that she was being followed on the way back to her room. She kept looking behind her, imagining that someone was standing in the shadows, watching her.
    Early Monday morning, Johanna put a few last items into her bag and fastened it tightly. She wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, tied her hat on her head, and put on her shoes.
    Johanna took one last look around her little room. I came here with such hope. Now all I feel is sadness about the past and worry for the future. She sighed, straightened her back, and closed the door softly behind her.
    She walked down the steep narrow stairs and along a corridor. Weak sunlight sifted in through the windows. She heard the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen and smelled freshly baked bread and porridge simmering on the stove. She heard Frau Hartmann humming an old country tune.
    For a moment, she wished she could join the other girls and forget her plan. One step into the kitchen, and she would be safe. One step away