“I am overruling these guards on this matter! You are obviously a part of this—of this conspiracy plot. I’m taking you in for questioning immediately!”
“Please,” I say, and I’ve never heard my voice sound so desperate.
“No,” he whispers, and this time it’s real Ollie, talking to me, and not the Ollie pretending to be a soldier. “You can’t.”
“Please,” I beg Ollie. “They’re going to—”
Bang.
And they do. They shoot her. In the middle of the bridge, in the back of the neck so that blood bursts from her throat, slick and shining in the moonlight.
“No,” I cry out, but my words are muffled by another gunshot.
Mirjam’s knees buckle under her as her hands fly up to her neck, but I know she’s dead even before she hits the ground. It’s the way she doesn’t bother to break her own fall, the way she crumples to the ground with her head and shoulders hitting the cobblestones.
The prisoners stare, gaping, at the body in the middle of the bridge, some of them letting out shocked screams, some of them clasping their hands in silent horror. The boy who called out to his mother earlier is crying, and she still has her hand over his mouth so the tears and the muffled sobs squeeze through her fingers.
The young guard, the one who shot her, comes back to his post. “A warning,” he calls. His voice wavers; he wasn’t expecting this to happen, and he doesn’t know what to do now.
“Let’s go,” he calls out. “Quickly.” He’s not even going to move her. He’s going to make the other prisoners walk right around her, leaving her in the middle of the bridge for the milkmen and street cleaners to find in the morning.
Ollie pulls me along, away from the bridge, one arm wrapped around my waist and the other holding the camera.
“Walk, Hanneke,” he instructs me. “You have to walk.”
I can’t see where he’s leading me, because I’m crying. Sobs wrack my body, the first tears I’ve cried since Bas died. They blind me and taste salty and unfamiliar on my lips.
I’m crying for Mirjam, the girl I was supposed to save but couldn’t, and didn’t even know. And for the mother who was shushing her son, and the man who begged me to stop talking. I’m crying for Mrs. Janssen, who has no one and who I told I would help and who trusted me and who I failed. I’m crying for Bas. I’m crying for Elsbeth and the German soldier she chose over her best friend, and for Ollie, who can’t be with Willem, and for all the people in my whole country who saw the tanks roll in at the start of the occupation and have yet to see them roll out again.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Ollie leads me down back alleys and dark streets. I can’t even tell if the path he’s choosing is safe, if we’re making our way toward Willem. I don’t know if anyone else knows what happened, or if everyone is still waiting for us to return, thinking the plan has worked as it should. My feet move mechanically beside his. Finally he leads me down a short flight of stairs, and I realize we’re in what must be his and Willem’s apartment.
“Tea?” he says shortly.
It’s the first phrase he’s spoken. His hands shake as he opens cupboard doors and bangs them shut, forgetting where he keeps the cups. He looks toward the door, again and again. Willem is out there. Willem and Mirjam.
“Willem is still—” I start to say.
“I know,” Ollie cuts me off, and from the way his eyes flash, I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it. Finally, he stops going through the cupboards, leaning against the counter and gripping its edges so tightly his knuckles turn white. “You’re okay?” he asks, his back still to me.
I don’t answer. How am I supposed to answer? Ollie slams his hands against the counter; I jolt at the noise. “Dammit. Dammit.”
“What are you doing?” I ask as he starts to head back to the door.
“I have to make sure Willem is okay.”
“Ollie, you don’t know where he is.”
He pulls on his coat, buttoning it up to cover the Gestapo uniform. “I’m not just going to stay here. I’m not going to leave him. I have to go find Willem.”
“I’ll come with you.” I stand clumsily. “I can’t leave Mirjam, either. I can’t leave her body.”
“No.” His hand is already on the doorknob. “You can’t go back. You were just spotted being escorted away by a member of the Gestapo.”
“But I promised I would find her. She’s out there all alone. I can bring her to Mr. Kreuk’s. I have a key. I’ll take her there.” My voice is loose and out of control and doesn’t even sound like me.
Ollie leans his forehead against the door, his back to me. His shoulders move up and down. “I’ll get her,” he says quietly. “Willem and I will.”
“But why would you do that?” My eyes again fill with tears. “I was reckless and selfish. Why would you ever do this for me?”
He puts his hand beside his head on the door. “Because when she fell on the bridge—we never got to see Bas after he died. We never got to see him at all.”