“Come in,” she urged. “Have tea with us.”
They settled into the neat, tiny living room. Velna brought a pot of tea and her delicious pryaniki cookies, sweet and spicy with just the right amount of honey. Nikolajs disappeared briefly and returned with an envelope. Michael opened it, his American passport sliding out into his hands. He heard Sophie let out a sudden sign of relief beside him.
He gave them a sanitized version of his experiences over the last several months. At some point in the tale, Sophie excused herself and left the room. Nikolajs was telling Michael about the impact the war had had on the local economy – bringing new business into Kaliningrad but devastating the border towns – when he started to feel uneasy.
Where was Sophie?
Michael glanced at his watch. He couldn’t remember when she’d left the room. Ten minutes ago? Fifteen? Was she not feeling well? Suddenly, the doctor in him started to think. And worry.
All those stops along the road. The warmth of her skin when he had touched her this morning. The little cries every time the car moved too suddenly.
He stood up abruptly. “Forgive me.” His hosts looked at him, startled. “I believe Sophie has been feeling unwell, and I wish to check on her.” Michael found the washroom and tried the door carefully, but it was locked.
“Sophie? Are you all right, mana mila?” He heard a faint moaning sound from within. He drew back his foot to kick in the door. Remembering in time that this was not his home, Michael raced to the kitchen to get a knife. He had the lock open in seconds.
She lay on the floor beside the toilet, her body doubled over. Her skin burned, and her shirt was soaked with sweat. “Sophie, what is wrong? What has happened?”
She blinked rapidly, trying to bring his face into focus. “Sick,” she gasped. “Diarrhea, fever, cramps.” She bit her lip as if holding in a shout of pain. “Hurts so much.”
“I will be right back.” He scrambled to his feet to find Velna and Nikolajs. “She is unwell. I need to get her to a doctor, possibly even a hospital.”
“You’ll do better treating her here, my son.” Nikolajs picked up Sophie’s mug with a tea towel to avoid direct contact, and Michael felt a rush of gratitude for the older man’s common sense. “Your presence in a hospital would be questioned, and there would be grave danger for you and Sophie. Many local officials will betray their own mothers for a promised payout. You should treat her here, downstairs, where it is safe.”
“I did not know you had a basement.”
“We do not tell many people about it. Get her and come with us.”
Chapter 12
Michael picked Sophie up off the bathroom floor and carried her through the house behind Velna and Nikolajs. She moaned with every movement he made, and panic climbed up his throat.
They led him through the kitchen, opening the pantry. Nikolajs moved some bins aside and pulled down on a latch. The back of the pantry sprang open to a passageway leading down.
“What is this place?” Michael asked in surprise.
“Our house has served as a hiding place for years.” Velna cleared a path so Michael could carry Sophie through safely. “We helped dozens of political dissidents escape from Orlisia during the first occupation. Your father has sent many people to us for sanctuary over the years. Did you not know this?”
“No,” he said wonderingly, “but I think Sophie did. She seemed to recognize the address.”
“Undoubtedly Max provided her with our information in case of emergency. You will be safe here. Carefully now, it is dark and the stairs are steep.” Michael crept down the stairs, trying not to bang Sophie’s head on anything.