The Woman with the Blue Star by Pam Jenoff (read e books online free TXT) 📕

that way. It’s just a crush on my part. He was engaged before the war and his fiancée was killed and he is in mourning. I’m nothing more than a friend to him. It can never be.”

“Never say never.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t see me like that.”

“You must see yourself as you want others to see you,” I said, recalling Ana Lucia’s words from when I was younger. It was one of the few useful things she had ever told me. I walked to the armoire and pulled out a freshly ironed dress. “Here, try this on.”

“Now? Oh, Ella, I couldn’t possibly! I wouldn’t want to soil it.”

“Then wash.” She looked surprised by the suggestion. “Why not? We have time. Come, freshen up.” I led her down to the bathroom on the third floor. “You can wash in there.” Sadie looked longingly at the claw-foot tub. “Go on. I’ll wait right here. There’s time for a bath if you don’t take long.” I closed the door to give her privacy. A second later, I heard the water begin to run from the faucet.

As I stood outside the door, my thoughts turned back to Krys. I wondered how he would be able to get the food, prayed that he would be able to get it. I was curious, too, why he spent so much time at the café. Did it have something to do with his work or was it simply because he had a room upstairs? Or was he there so often because of the woman with the dark curls?

A few minutes later, Sadie stepped out of the bathroom, scrubbed clean and wearing the dress I had given her. It was too big and she looked a bit uncomfortable, as though she was wearing some sort of a costume. “You look beautiful,” I said. She really did. Cleaned of dirt, her pale skin was luminescent. Her brown eyes were bright with happiness.

She smiled, rubbing her hands against the fabric. “I feel wonderful. Thank you.”

I led her back up to my room. “Let me brush your hair,” I offered, and she sat down in the chair willingly. She sat perfectly still as I styled her dark hair into a high knot and then patted her nose with powder. “There, ready for a night at the opera.” We both chuckled. “You look like a different person.” The words came out not at all as I intended. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

She smiled brightly. “I understand. It just feels so good to be clean. Of course, it won’t last, once I go back.”

“Don’t worry about getting the dress dirty,” I said. “Keep it. It’s yours.”

“Thank you, but I’m not just talking about the dress. All of this tonight, it’s like a dream. A dream that has to end.” Her time here was just a momentary reprieve from the sadness and suffering. She reached out for my hand and squeezed it.

“I’m happy to do it. It’s really nice, having you here.” It really was, even if in a short while she would be gone. “You still need shoes.” The boots she had been wearing were nearly disintegrated from the constant wetness.

“I’ve been wearing them since we left the ghetto. They’re too small,” she acknowledged. “But I can make do.”

I reached into my armoire once more, suddenly mindful of the dozens of shoes I’d cast in there over the years without a second thought. I pulled out a pair of black, patent leather shoes. “They might be too big,” I fretted.

“They’re perfect,” Sadie said after putting them on, and whether that was true or she was just saying it to be polite, I could not tell. They were warm and dry, though, and Sadie looked at them as if she had never felt anything finer. “Thank you,” she said again.

Just then, there was a commotion from below, the sound of a door opening. My heart stopped. “What is it?” Sadie asked, seeing my expression.

I shook my head, barely able to speak over the lump that had formed in my throat. “Ana Lucia is home.”

14

Ella

“My stepmother,” I explained in an urgent whisper. “She’s back.” Her plans must have changed. And she wasn’t alone, I judged, hearing a second heavier set of footsteps as they started up the stairs. I didn’t mention that part, not wanting to panic Sadie.

But it was no use; Sadie’s face paled with terror. “You said no one was home, that she was out for the night.”

“That’s what I thought. You have to hide.”

“But where?”

I opened the door to my room a crack and listened. Hearing Colonel Maust’s voice as well as Ana Lucia’s, I shut it again just as quickly. “You must be very quiet. My stepmother has company.” There was no way to avoid the truth any longer.

“Ella, is your stepmother’s guest German?” Sadie whispered.

I wanted to lie, but Colonel Maust’s accent was unmistakable. “Yes.” My heart stopped. “You must understand, I’m not like that at all. I hate that she socializes with the Germans, in my father’s house no less. I certainly didn’t expect them to be here tonight. And I didn’t have anywhere else to hide you.”

But my explanation was of little comfort. “You shouldn’t have brought me here.” There was a note of accusation in Sadie’s voice.

“I’m sorry. It was wrong of me. I was trying to help. I never meant to put you in any danger.” I searched desperately for a place to hide her. “In here,” I said, gesturing to the armoire. She stood frozen. “It’s the only way. Just until they fall asleep. Then I can get you out of the house.” Sadie climbed into the armoire and I covered her with some clothes.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Ella, is that you?” a slurred voice in the hallway called. I was flooded with alarm; Ana Lucia never ventured to the fourth floor.

“Yes, Ana Lucia.” I tried to make my voice sound normal.

“I thought I heard voices.”

“I was just playing the gramophone.