“I don’t care about eating. Just come up where it’s safe.” Michael climbed the steps quickly, trying not to look concerned. But instead of stopping at the second floor, he hurried up the ladder leading to the roof. He peeked out and looked around in a circular motion. No one out there. Thank God.
When he descended back down to the dining area, he saw Elizabeth smiling. “What’s going on?” she asked curiously.
“Um . . . nothing.” I’ve told Elizabeth too much already.
She gave him a look of disbelief, noticing her father’s face was milky white.
The awkward silence was broken as Leah began preparations for lunch. She removed the lettuce, herbs, and horseradish root from the basket before following him. As she reached the top of the ladder, she called out sweetly, “I got you some watermelon, Elizabeth.”
Despite her grief, Elizabeth didn’t want to offend Leah. She rose from her bedroll and joined them at the dinner mat, where she and Michael had already set out bowls of cheese, almonds, and cucumber.
Upon seeing the simple yet elegant lunch, Leah whispered to them, “Thank you.”
Michael smiled. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t find any bread.”
“There isn’t any in the house because of the seder. This is just perfect.” Her breathing became more even as she ate.
“So was he waiting at the tunnel?” Elizabeth asked, adding a piece of watermelon to her plate.
Leah nodded.
Elizabeth frowned, looking at her father. “So what does that mean?”
“It means we’re not leaving yet,” Michael murmured.
Elizabeth quietly ate three slices of watermelon, each bite precise and deliberate. Leah and Michael chewed on nuts, enduring Elizabeth’s stoic silence.
Finally Elizabeth asked quietly, “Why do you have to kill Cassie?”
“Elizabeth, please?” Michael begged.
“No, it’s fine, Michael.” Leah raised her hand. “Elizabeth, this is the tradition of our people. Each year a lamb is sacrificed to show our devotion. Our people have done it for a very long time.”
After a moment of thought, she added, “Don’t you have traditions where you come from?”
Elizabeth sighed. “My father doesn’t believe in traditions.”
Michael grinned uncomfortably. “She’s right.”
“Can I be excused?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes, yes,” Michael said anxiously. “Just stay out of the courtyard.”
Elizabeth looked away and went down the ladder, avoiding eye contact with them. They heard her outside Cassie’s stall.
“She’s not taking this well,” Michael said to Leah, moving to the upstairs window to watch Elizabeth playing with Cassie below.
“I know.” Leah quietly removed the cups and plates from the mat before starting down the ladder.
Michael followed her downstairs to the kitchen, where he watched Leah. She was puttering around the room, cleaning and moving plates to different parts of the tiny kitchen.
Why is she lingering?
After a moment, he finally asked, “Can I help you?”
“No, no, no. I just need some time.”
Michael watched Elizabeth continue to pet the lamb. He was fixated on his daughter, but soon realized that Leah was intently watching too. When Michael’s eyes met Leah’s, she turned away from him.
“I need to speak with you about something.”
“What is it?” Michael asked.
Leah hesitated as she covered her head with the veil and took a short length of rope from the wall behind her. She moved toward Cassie’s stall. “It should wait,” she said, nodding in Elizabeth’s direction. “It’s time for me to take Cassie to the Temple, Elizabeth.”
“Are you sure you should go?” Michael asked urgently.
“Yes, I think I just panicked before.” Leah smiled at him.
Elizabeth looked up into Leah’s face and solemnly nodded. She hugged Cassie one last time, then slowly stood. “Bye, Cassie.”
Leah tied the rope loosely around the lamb’s neck and gently guided it out of the courtyard. Michael watched the front gate close behind them before he turned to look at Elizabeth. She was standing alone, under the fig tree, without a single tear in her eye—something that made Michael feel as if his heart would burst.
Michael sat against the wall in Cassie’s stall, watching Elizabeth. “Honey, we have to think about getting back.”
Elizabeth looked at her father. Her eyes were now red and puffy from saying good-bye to Cassie. “I just want to get back home to my friends. I don’t like it here.”
Michael nodded in understanding. “I know. I want to leave, too, but until that soldier leaves, it’s impossible.”
Elizabeth shrugged in agreement. She picked up a piece of straw from the ground. “Dad, do you believe in life after death? Do you think there’s a heaven?”
He was surprised by his daughter’s question. He had dwelled on the subject quite a bit over the past fourteen years. “Honey, you’re so young, why are you worrying about this right now?”
“Because I think of Mom a lot, especially around her birthday. Can we do something together on her birthday next week?”
Michael’s head dropped. “It’s a tough day for me, Elizabeth. I don’t feel much like doing anything on that day.”
“I know.” Every year for as long as she could remember, her father had shut the blinds in the house on April 17 and sat in his dark bedroom.
She looked at him searchingly. “If that man you saw really was Jesus, do you think he could bring Mom back somehow?”
The question hung in the air. Michael had no idea how to answer. He had been sure of what he’d seen on Palm Sunday, and somehow, on that day, he’d felt something stir within him. Was it faith? Hope? Whatever it was, it had been fleeting but genuine. But now, in the practical light of day, that possibility seemed ridiculous. The last thing he wanted to do was alarm his daughter with some far-fetched idea, all because he couldn’t find it in his heart to let go of the past.
“Elizabeth, I think what I saw was amazing,” he said slowly. “But I really doubt Jesus, God, or anyone else could bring back Mom.”
“Why not? Jesus was supposed to work miracles. Why couldn’t we try to find him?” Elizabeth leaned forward in excitement. “Why couldn’t we ask him for a miracle?”
Michael shook his head. This was getting out of hand. “No, Elizabeth. It’s dangerous enough already for us here. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize your safety. I’ve already lost your mother. I couldn’t bear to lose you, too.”
She glared at him. “You’re always using me as an excuse. You just don’t want to try.”
He didn’t bother answering. He reasoned that she wouldn’t, or couldn’t, fully understand until she was a parent. He didn’t have the energy to explain that he tried all the time. To be a good father. To be supportive. To fill two parents’ shoes instead of just his own.
They sat in silence. Finally Elizabeth asked with a sidelong glance, “Dad, what do you think of Leah?”
“Hmm . . . I don’t know. I don’t know her well enough to say.” He looked at his daughter; to him, she had matured so much over this past week.
Elizabeth snapped the piece of straw between her finger and thumb. She scowled in frustration. “Ugh, I hate waiting here. We should be back at the tunnel by now.”
“Yeah, me, too. I’d do anything to get rid of that soldier. Leah thinks it won’t be safe until after sundown.”
Elizabeth gave a look of displeasure. “Now you’re talking like her.”
Michael walked over to Elizabeth and sat down. He put his arms around her.
“Elizabeth, the only thing I want right now is to get you home safely so you can be happy.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “That sounds nice.”
“I hope Leah gets home soon,” Michael said to Elizabeth with a wink, “because I would hate to have to light some of these lamps.”
She just stared at him, motionless.
Michael grew restless. Night fell quickly here, and they needed to get home.
Suddenly, he heard heavy footsteps on the road. Elizabeth wanted to investigate, but Michael motioned for her to stay down.