The Kommandant's Girl by Pam Jenoff Read Free Book Online Page B

clean up. Katya is sick with the flu.”
    “I can help. Marta is sick, too,” I added. I turned from the kitchen to the main room. A dozen or so people were already there, the faces familiar to me after a few weeks of visits. “Emma, come join us,” a boy named Piotrek called out, and I soon found myself listening to a story about a one-legged shoe salesman that I somehow doubted was true. It didn’t matter; I was grateful just to be treated as one of them. A few minutes later, a bell rang, Alek and Marek came out, and the weekly ritual began. I enjoyed the dinner, surrounded by the people I had come to know, but it wasn’t the same without Marta beside me to whisper and share confidences.
    The crowd thinned out after dessert, with only a handful of us remaining behind to clean up. Alek, Marek and a third man, whom I had noticed at dinner but did not recognize, retreated to the back room. As I cleared the dishes from the table, I noticed that the door to the room was ajar. Curious, I found myself lingering by the door as I cleared the end of the table nearest to it. Edging closer, I could hear the men arguing. “…the railway line outside Plaszow,” I heard Marek say.
    “It’s too soon,” Alek replied. “We need to build up the provisions first.”
    “We have two dozen guns, a hundred bullets, some grenades…” Marek protested.
    “Not enough.”
    The stranger spoke then. “In Warsaw, they are organizing within the ghetto.”
    “Warsaw is different. The movement, the ghetto itself, everything is bigger,” Alek said.
    “If only Minka can get…”
    “Emma,” Helga said, coming up behind me and making me jump. “Do you need help with those plates?”
    “N-no, thank you,” I stammered, afraid she had caught me listening. I balanced a stack of plates on my forearm and made my way to the kitchen. As I placed the dishes in the sink and turned the tap on, I heard the door to the back room creak and the men still talking as they made their way to the front door. Alek paused at the kitchen entrance and whispered something to Helga. The three men exited the apartment.
    A few minutes later, as I was drying the plates, Helga came over to the sink. “I’ll finish this,” she said, taking the towel from my hands. “Would you mind taking out the garbage on your way down?” She pointed to two bags by the kitchen door. I thanked her and bid the others good-night.
    At the bottom of the stairs, I turned and found the back door leading out to the alley. Outside, it was pitch black. I blinked several times, trying to adjust my eyes to the light, before feeling for the step downward. It was a deeper step than I had thought, and icy. I stumbled, almost dropping the garbage bags in the process. “Oh, oh!” I cried.
    “Careful,” a deep voice said from the shadows.
    I jumped, caught off guard. Then I recognized the voice. “Alek!” I gasped. “What are you doing here? You frightened me.”
    “Shhh,” he whispered, taking the bags from me and setting them by the garbage cans. “Come here.” He grabbed my sleeve. He must have asked Helga to have me bring down the garbage in order to speak with me, I realized, as he led me to the far corner of the alley where two buildings met. What did he want? Had I done something to make him mad? I wondered if he had seen me listening by the door. “I have a message.” His voice did not sound angry. He pressed a tiny crumpled slip of paper into my hand.
    My heart leapt. “From Jacob?” I asked, my voice rising.
    “Shh!” he admonished. He lit a match. “Read it quickly.” I unfolded the paper.
    Dearest love,
    I am well. I miss you more than you know. Take care of yourself, and do not give up. Help is coming.
    Emmeth
    There was no signature. Emmeth was the code word Jacob and I had chosen before his disappearance; it was Hebrew for truth . I read the note over and over, until the match threatened to burn Alek’s fingers and he was forced to blow it out. “I don’t