Part 25 (2/2)
His daughter had changed; there was no denying it. Even through her moodiness earlier in the spring, she was still his little girl and, though she didn't seem to realize it at the time, needed him as much if not more than ever. But this was different. Franz was proud of her sudden maturity, but there was more to it-a burgeoning independence. And he didn't yet feel ready to let go of the child in her.
”There are still a few leaves left, Papa.” Hannah lifted a small teapot. ”I can steep more tea for you.”
”One more cup and I will sweat green.” Smiling, he leaned forward to take the pressure off his searing back. ”How is school, Hannah?”
”Same as ever”
”And with Freddy . . .”
She crossed her arms over her chest. ”I do not speak to him.”
”Perhaps he is not as much to blame as you think.” When she didn't reply, Franz added, ”His father should never have involved either of you with those cigarettes.”
”Freddy knew what he was doing.”
Franz would never trust the boy again either, but he was willing to defend him if it helped protect Hannah's feelings. ”People do desperate things in desperate times, Hannah-chen. Especially if they believe they are doing it for their family.”
”I have seen Freddy for what he really is.” Her expression was stoic and her eyes clear.
The door opened and Sunny stepped inside.
One glimpse told Franz how upset she was. He turned to Hannah. ”Your aunt will be home soon with rice. We will need hot water for dinner.”
Without a word, Hannah grabbed the rusty pot off the counter and headed out the door.
As soon as she had left, Sunny plunked down beside him and took his hand in hers. ”I met the old man from the Underground.”
Although her tone was emotionless, Franz sensed her anxiety. He sat up straighter and leaned back into the chair, hardly noticing the pain. ”Was it an ultimatum?”
”Perhaps. I am not sure.”
”And what does that mean for you? For us?”
She held up her free hand, then let it drop to her side.
He nodded to himself. ”I will speak to Wen-Cheng.”
”No, Franz. He is as helpless as we are.”
”He got you into this.”
”I did that myself.”
”I blame him!” Franz suddenly found an outlet for all his indignation-toward the Herzbergs, the Underground, the j.a.panese and even Sunny. ”Why did Wen-Cheng ever come to the refugee hospital?”
”To help.”
Franz squeezed her hand so hard that she had to tug it free. ”For no other reason than you, Sunny. He came for you.”
”You are not thinking clearly.”
”Nonsense. I have known it for months. Perhaps you are the one whose perspective is clouded.”
Sunny c.o.c.ked her head. ”Franz, are you accusing me of something?” she asked softly.
He could not let go of his anger. ”Wen-Cheng could have volunteered anywhere. To help with his own people. He is from Shanghai, after all. Instead, he chose a German Jewish refugee hospital. Why?”
”He knew that we worked there.”
”We?” Franz grunted.
”All right, me, then.”
”Exactly.”
Sunny stood up and straightened her skirt. ”Whatever Wen-Cheng's motives for coming to the hospital, they did not affect my actions. For the longest time, he would not even admit to being involved, let alone introduce me to anyone involved in the Underground. I insisted. I wanted to partic.i.p.ate.” She hesitated. ”I needed to.”
He frowned. ”You needed to?”
”Yes, darling,” she said evenly. ”If I were not born here, I would not understand it myself. I felt that I needed to do something. Anything. If only to honour the memory of my father.”
”You are correct. I do not understand.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Franz's anger dissipated, but worry only filled the void. ”I warned Colonel Kubota,” he finally said. ”What else can we do?”
His wife shook her head, her light brown eyes glistening.
”What if they come for you, Sunny?” he asked.
”Oh, Franz. Those people from the Underground-they are decent people.”
”Maybe so, but if they believe you defied them or, worse, think for one moment that you might collaborate . . .”
She leaned forward and placed her fingers lightly on the back of his neck, careful to avoid his wounds. ”We will be all right.”
”How can you be sure?”
”Simon.” She laughed. ”You know how he likes to compares us to cats. For always landing on our feet.”
”It's not even true of cats. Let alone us.”
”We will get through this.” She kissed him on the lips and then pulled away. ”I must go freshen up.”
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