“Really?” Petra’s voice is only mildly surprised. Such things are commonplace these days—hardly the scandal they were when we were young.
“Yes,” I reply. It is the missing chapter of the story, the one that has never been told. I am the only one who knows it and I will not be here much longer. I need to tell them now, so the truth is not lost forever.
“She was an unwed mother and the father was a German soldier, so the Reich took her baby from her. She never knew what became of the child. Then she found you, Theo, and it was like a second chance. She loved you like her own,” I add quickly, patting his hand. “But she never forgot her firstborn. I’m sorry I never told you before. The secret, it wasn’t mine to tell.”
“Why are you telling us now?” Petra asks.
“Because I will not be here forever. Someone needs to know the story and carry it forward.” I look up at the painting of Noa once more. “I’m ready now.”
Petra stands and reaches her hand toward me. “Then let’s go.”
I take her hand and our fingers intertwine. Theo stands on my other side. I lean toward my beautiful boy and he bows his head until our foreheads touch. “Going together once more,” I say. I let them lead me slowly from the museum, feeling the unseen hands that guide us.
*