Page 18 of The Lost Husband

The tension is silencing until thepop, pop, popof Noah cracking his knuckles. His cheeks blush at the corners of his constrained smile. “How long do you expect to be away?”

“It’s hard to say,” Papa replies, rubbing the back of his neck. A clear indicator of stress. “We’ll have a better idea once we assess my sister’s condition. Securing help for her is a priority.”

Noah takes Papa’s arm and leads him across the living room, not out of earshot. “Keep a close eye on the headlines. Don’t assume all are false.”

“It’s weighing heavily on my mind, but I’m confident we’ll be back soon enough, son.”

“I’ll write if I hear something that doesn’t find its way to a newspaper.”

Mama clutches my hand. “Should we reconsider?” she asks Papa.

“How can I? My sister needs us,” he argues.

Mama shakes her head, her jaw firming as it does when she refrains from commenting—something she’s been trying to do in recent years.

“Make me a grandma. It’ll be enough reason to hurry back,” Mama whispers. She pulls me in for a tight hug. “I’ll see you soon.”

Papa steals me next, giving me his usual bear hug and a kiss on the top of my head.

“I love you both. Safe travels,” I tell them as we part ways. Such a common thing to say when I’ve never had to worry much about them before. My heart says otherwise now as nothing seems certain.

Noah is quiet as we head to the market. My head is full of noise and concern for Mama and Papa. There’s no guarantee of safety anywhere, and it’s unsettling to know they’ll be too far away for us to help them if needed.

“They’ll be all right.” He takes my hand and presses a gentle kiss over my knuckles.

I hope to God he’s right.

* * *

As we near the vendor stalls, the aroma of fresh bread and overripe fruit fills the air. We step into the textile square as Noah inspects a roll of linen, hideous linen neither he nor I have a tastefor. “What’s this for?” I ask, talking through my teeth beneath a fake smile.

“Just browsing.” Before I can call his bluff and ask what he’s truly doing, I spot a familiar face out of the corner of my eye—one lacking expression.

Christoph’s here and approaching us, though his pace is casual rather than intentional. He tugs at the same linen Noah is inspecting. “Quality is questionable, yes?” Christoph utters.

Noah’s hand finds the small of my back, steadying me, a silent way to tell me not to worry about their unusual conversation.

“Hard to tell how durable it is,” Noah replies. “It’s clear the trades still matter. They still demand the best.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Christoph claps his hand on Noah’s shoulder, then moves past us to another display. His tone is casual, and light. As if practiced—like he’s learned to say one thing and mean another.

Noah takes the roll of linen and makes a quick purchase. By the time I turn away from the counter, Christoph is gone. I see him walking away, but he doesn’t glance back at us. Not once.

Noah and I don’t exchange another word until we’re home and he locks the door and lowers the curtains.

He places the roll of fabric on the table and unwinds it until a slip of folded paper appears.

“What is this?” I take the paper, keeping my eyes on him—trying to keep up.

“The truth,” he says, “or a version of the truth that will keep a man alive.”

I brush my finger along the darker ink spots on a birth date and a mild ink-color change next to the word “occupation.”

“Noah…” I clutch the fabric of my blouse, pressing my fist to my chest. “The police could arrest you both for this, but you’re Jewish and Christoph isn’t. It’s dangerous.”

“Yes,” he says, “but even Christoph doesn’t believe in waiting for the law to fix things anymore. This is more common than you think, and there’s nothing for you to worry about.” Noah closes his eyes and releases a heavy breath. “Christoph found him. He’s a Jewish man who ran, or still privately runs, a printer by the port. He’s in debt to Christoph—more than he should be—for the help he’s given him. He knows who to trust. It’s a good connection, one that will keep us safe soon too.”

Noah has been altering papers for other Jewish citizens with Christoph’s help. This explains why his confidence in our safety has changed. He’s taken back his control. Noah will never sit back and accept the unjust.