Thanks everyone, for reading this and especially to those of you who've posted reviews. Your feedback is appreciated and relished! I've posted the next two chapters, enjoy!

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Chapter 3

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January 7, 1937

The cold air swirled along the empty avenues, carrying tiny flakes of ice and snow that glistened in the light from the street lamps overhead. David pulled the lapels of his coat tighter against his neck as he hurried to get home. His employer had kept him working late in preparation for a big sale in the morning. Although he'd been told he wouldn't be paid extra, David had stayed and worked nonetheless. Any job, good or bad, was hard to come by and neither he nor his father could risk losing their small bits of income. There was one good thing about his job, though. Working afternoons and evenings, he could still go to school. When David had almost been kicked out a few months ago for spending too much time at work, sacrifices were made, meals cut down on and old clothes mended and repaired.

But the dreary subjects of work and hard times weren't foremost on David's mind tonight. He had far more important concerns—one in particular. She was beautiful and had entered his life four days ago.

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"Excuse me? Where can I find some sewing needles?"

David turned towards the soft, feminine voice and was immediately greeted by a heavenly vision. She appeared to be the same age as he, with dark brown hair and the loveliest eyes he'd ever seen. Her cheeks were round and slightly pink and reminded him of an angel he'd once seen in a painting. Suddenly realizing that he was ogling her, he mentally slapped himself.

"T-they're right over here. I'll show you."

"Oh, that would be wonderful."

David's heart instantly melted. Her voice was so soothing and inviting. It only took a few seconds to realize why he'd been drawn to it. It was like being able to hear her again, his mother.

"Here they are. We also have some thread, if you need it."

She smiled at him and started examining the thin pads of folded paper. Finding one she liked, she turned and said, "I'm also looking for some buttons. Do you have those, too?"

"Yes, right over here." David led her to the next aisle. "My name's David," he said, feeling adventurous. "Do you live around here?"

"Hello, David. My name's Hannah." They stopped in front of a large cabinet with glass-fronted drawers. "I live over by the library and art museum, but I'm visiting my cousin. Her apartment is close by, on Linden Strasse."

"That's just a few blocks from where I live," David said excitedly. "I was wondering why I'd never seen you at school. Do you visit your cousin often?"

"Oh, about once a week."

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David smiled at the memory of their first meeting. And today had been the third time in just as many days that she had stopped in to see him on the way to her cousin's. David had certainly heard of love at first sight, but never given the phrase much consideration until now.

Tonight, he planned to tell his father about her. Jakob had seemed rather distant during the last couple of weeks and David thought the news might lift his spirits. As he approached their apartment building, he was surprised to see there wasn't any light coming from the living room window. It was only about ten o'clock, and Jakob usually didn't go to bed until much later.

Once he got to the front door, he found it unlocked and entered the apartment. There was just enough light from the street lamps outside the window for him to make out the larger objects in the room. Not seeing his father, David called out, but there was no answer. As he started towards the kitchen to flip the light switch, he heard a soft voice in the room.

"I'm here, David. Don't turn on the light."

"Father?" David turned and could now see that Jakob was sitting in the big living room chair. "What's wrong with the lights?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to do some thinking. It's better to be in a dark place when you have to think."

David took a few tentative steps forward. The sound in his father's voice was scaring him.

"What is it, Papa? Is something the matter?"

"Come here, mayne kaddishel. Sit down beside me."

David went over and sat down on the floor. He heard his father let out a sigh.

"It seems like the Nazis haven't finished making enough laws against the Jews yet," he began. "I went to work today and was told I couldn't be an accountant anymore."

"Why, Papa?"

Jakob let out a slight chuckle. "We can't be trusted with money, you know. Or pulling teeth. No Jew can be a dentist now either. Oy, what's next? No doctors either?"

David bowed his head. He knew what this meant. "I'll talk to Herr Schuller tomorrow," he said. "See if he can let me work during the day."

"No, my son. You go to school tomorrow."

"But—"

"No, David!" Jakob leaned forward in his chair. "You need your education; you have your entire life to work. No, you go to school. I will find another job."

David drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, cradling himself. "I'm not a little boy, you know. We need the money. I can always go back to school—"

"David Starsky! You listen to me!" Jakob yelled as he stood up. "I say you go to school, you go to school. Now, there is some bread and cheese on the table—David!"

The heated call fell on David's back as he jumped up and ran to the front door. A second shout followed but by then he was already halfway down the staircase. Once he hit the street, David turned to the right, then left, but neither direction offered a suitable destination. He wanted to run, far enough away to get out of this place. Where he wasn't made fun of being a Jew at school, had enough money to buy new clothes, and could do whatever he wanted. As the snow started to fall heavily around him, David succumbed to the dismal reality of his life and sat down hard on the cement steps. He burrowed his head under his arms and slowly let the pain seep out. A few minutes later, he heard the sound of muffled footsteps on the landing behind him.

"What are you doing out here? Keeping the walkway clear of snow?" Jakob's voice was strong but not judgmental. He moved closer, and then David felt a hand on his shoulder. "Come inside, my child. It's not good for you to be here all alone."

With his head still buried, David sobbed, "I'm not a child. I'm almost sixteen!"

"Yes, yes. You are a man, but even a man respects his father." Jakob leaned over. Keeping his hand on David's shoulder, he used it to brace himself as he sat down beside him. "You know, if we never had hard times, we wouldn't be grateful for the good ones. Life—it gives, and then it takes. Your mother, she was a giver and I've tried to be like her. That's why I don't want to see you giving right now. I want for you to do the taking."

"But why, Papa?" David asked, raising his head. "If Momma always gave, why can't I?"

"Wen der fater gibt men tsu zun, lichen baiden. Wen der zun gibt men tsu tati, vainen baiden. There is laughter when a father gives to his son, but not when a son gives to the father."

David wiped a hand across his cheek. For the first time, he realized that every man had his pride. He had his, in wanting to be considered old enough to make his own decisions. And Papa had his. A parent trying to provide his son as much as he could with as little as he had. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, but it was what they had.

He looked into his father's eyes. In a way, David felt he was glimpsing a mirror image of himself, or at least who he'd like to be when he became a father.

Jakob placed his arm around David's shoulders. "Come. Let us go back inside before we both turn into snowmen."

For a moment, David wanted to stay seated on the steps, cuddled in his father's embrace. Somehow that felt better, even out in the cold, than returning to their dark apartment upstairs. But when Jakob squeezed his shoulder with a little more strength, David knew it was time to go. He brushed the snow off of his sleeves and stood back up, helping Jakob rise as well. Both men went back into the building, and back to facing an uncertain future.

November 9th, 1938

David glanced up at the clock above the shoe display. Almost six o'clock. He had a date with Hannah tonight, a very special date. For the past six months, he'd taken a small amount from his wages and used the money to purchase a gold ring, set with a small pearl—Hannah's birthstone. He was going to ask if she would become engaged to him. Hell, he was going to ask her to marry him. Engaged was only a way to postpone the actual event until next spring, when he would be eighteen and not need Jakob's permission to marry. While his father had nothing against Hannah, he'd told David several times that he shouldn't rush into something that would change his life. "Times are bad," he'd say. "Why don't you wait until they get better, then marry?"

The truth was, times were getting worse. Jakob was having increasing problems finding work and keeping it. All he knew was how to be a bookkeeper, and the few businesses still hiring Jews only wanted manual laborers. David wondered if his father didn't want to give his blessing because he was afraid of losing his son as a wage earner. If it came to that, David would find a way for them to stay together, even if he was married. Hannah would understand. Her father had died shortly after she was born and she seemed to enjoy Jakob's company when she came to visit. But for now, David just wanted to take one day at a time, and tonight was as far into the future as he wanted to contemplate.

Just as he was leaving the store, Kendrick nearly collided with him at the front door.

"What are you doing?" David asked, not sure what to make of his friend's sudden appearance.

Quickly glancing over both shoulders, Kendrick breathlessly replied, "I need to talk to you."

He took hold of David's arm and started to pull him out of the doorway.

"Wait! I'm on my way to see Hannah!" protested David.

"I said I need to talk to you!" Kendrick's grip tightened. So did the look on his face.

"Okay," David said as he stepped out of the way of some customers. "Talk."

"Not here." Kendrick took another look around. Nodding his head towards an alley, Kendrick said, "Over there, quickly."

David hesitantly followed, his stomach getting tighter with each step. Once they entered the alley, Kendrick carefully scanned the area from top to bottom.

"What is it? What are you afraid of?" David had noticed his friend wasn't wearing his Hitler Jugend uniform. For the last couple of years, there was hardly a day when he didn't have it on.

"You need to go home, right now," Kendrick announced. "Stay inside and don't come out until tomorrow morning."

"Are you kidding?" David started to push him away. "Hannah's expecting me tonight, I'm already…hey!"

Kendrick grabbed a shoulder and slammed him up against the brick wall. "Why are you always so damn stubborn? Can't you just listen for once!"

The edge in Kendrick's voice prevented David from trying to wrestle free. He felt a trickle of fear, but before he could say anything, Kendrick continued.

"They're going after Jews tonight. Homes, businesses, churches—" Hearing voices coming from the street, Kendrick suddenly hushed. They both watched as three men walked past, their attention focused on something else entirely. Turning back, Kendrick added, "Anything, or anyone, Jewish."

David pushed away, freeing himself. "Who are 'they'?" he snapped.

"Nazis."

The word hung in the still air, its meaning clear and ominous.

"And how do you know?" David cringed. It was a stupid question, he knew that. But the answer was completely unexpected.

"My group leader told me—a Jew killed a German diplomat in Paris."

"A Jew?" Kendrick nodded his head. David took a long look at the teenager, and asked, "Are you going to be with them?"

This time, Kendrick dropped his gaze. "Yes," he answered, "I have to. Everyone's been ordered to. Storm troopers, SS...everyone." He lifted his head. "I have to go; there isn't much time. Go home, now, and leave your lights off."

"I'm going to see Hannah."

"David!"

"Look! You've made your choice, and I'm making mine." He pushed past Kendrick and stopped. "I'll be alright," he said. "Thanks, for telling me."

David rushed out of the alley and down the street. But soon his head was swarming with indecision. It was getting harder and harder to trust anyone now. His continued friendship with Kendrick had been rough over the last few years. David knew what the Nazis thought about him, compared to Kendrick who was considered the perfect citizen for Hitler's new Germany. But he also understood what his friend was being forced into. After every weekly Youth meeting, David would wait anxiously until he saw Kendrick again, wondering whether the propagandists had finally succeeded in turning his best friend against him. So far, the two boys remained allies.

But as each month went by, changes for Jews were getting harder and harder to ignore—no more driver's licenses, nightly curfews, mandatory identity cards and, recently, what Jakob had feared earlier…Jewish doctors prohibited from practicing anymore. What freedoms would be left when everything was over with, David couldn't venture a guess. With his mind heavy with thoughts of what the Nazis had planned for tonight, David made his way to Hannah's, his hand clasped tightly around the ring in his pocket.

When he was about a block away, David could hear a roar of raised voices coming from around the next corner. Turning onto the next street, the sight of the large mob gathered in front of a government building made him stop in his tracks. Hundreds were there, many holding lit torches and some with signs that read "Annihilate the Jew!" and "Jews must die!" The crowd's attention seemed to be focused on a handful of men in uniform standing on top of the building's front steps. David's throat tightened as he made out, just barely, the handguns held by some of the leaders. Scheisse, are they really going to kill us?

Wanting to get to Hannah's now more than ever, David began to push through the thick mass of people. Almost halfway through, his progress was stopped as someone grabbed his arm and harshly spun him around.

"Juden! You're a Jew!"

Frozen in shock, David just stared at the angry face. He didn't recognize the man, but his accusation had attracted the attention of others around them. David's panic rose as his captor kept yelling, forcing more people to turn their way.

"Everyone! Here is a Jew!"

David tried to break free from the vise-like grip, willing to take his chances escaping on foot. Unable to wrench loose, he did the only other thing that came to mind.

"You're wrong! I'm not a Jew!"

"Filthy liar! I've seen you going into the synagogue."

"No! I'm not!" Feeling he had nothing to lose, David shouted, "Prove it!"

The man drew back, the hate in his eyes still glaring as his gaze drifted down to David's groin.

Davis stomach turned as a sick feeling washed over him. Oh God, no! He wouldn't show everyone…not here!

Another man's voice broke the standoff. "Come, Henryk! We have better things to do than mess with this piece of garbage."

One by one, the people around them started to move off, following the mob. The man let go of him, but not before he viciously threw David to the ground. As a final insult, he drew back his foot and landed a hard kick on the back of David's leg.

Although in pain, David quickly got back up. He wasn't going to let himself become an easy target for someone else's boot. Keeping his face lowered, he headed back the way he'd come, as fast as his shaky legs and throbbing knee would take him. There was no way he could make it to Hannah's tonight. Right now, he just wanted to get home to Papa and hide in the safety of his own house.

Behind him, he heard the crash of breaking glass and then a woman's scream. David gasped as, across the street, an older Hasidic man was struck in the face by a German soldier. As more blows landed, the people just stood by and watched, some even yelling for the troopers to hit him harder. The man fell to the ground, covering his head with his arms in a futile attempt to protect himself. David's focus shifted back to the crowd, desperately seeking someone who might intervene. But there was no such person, and the savage beating continued. A particularly vicious strike to the man's head sent a spray of blood onto one of the soldiers. Instead of it slowing him down, he became infuriated. More blows landed on the fallen Jew, hitting every part of the man's body and causing more blood to gush out.

Behind the attackers, other men were using clubs to break the windows of a store. Once several had been broken, a flaming torch was tossed in. Within a minute, the fire began to flicker out from the jagged openings, frantically reaching its way up to the residential second floor. David took one more look at the old man on the ground. His body had grown still, no longer flinching with each hit.

David started to run. Even when he was far enough away that he couldn't hear the angry crowd anymore, a voice inside his head kept screaming, "I'm not a Jew! I'm not a Jew!" Faster and faster he ran, but the shame he was running from pursued him like a wild and ferocious beast. He couldn't stop. Not for a second. If he did, he'd be overcome by this dark monster of guilt and by the countless generations of his ancestors, all wanting to tear him to shreds for denouncing his faith.

Reaching his apartment, he stumbled up the stairs and burst through the front door. He caught sight of Jakob sitting in the living room, a look of panic immediately flashing from his eyes. David's momentum carried him into the kitchen where he slapped the light switch, instantly sending the small apartment into darkness. As David collapsed onto the floor, his father's voice cut through the inky room, quickly approaching him.

"David! Where have you been? What has happened?" Jakob shouted, kneeling on the floor beside him.

Grabbing a few more lungfuls of air, David stared at him. "They're killing Jews, Papa," he wheezed out. "They're killing…us."

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Chapter 4

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Kendrick slowly walked down the empty street, studying every damaged building. The sun hadn't risen yet, but the pale light of daybreak was starting to seep through the darkened metropolis. Littered with debris, the sidewalk crunched beneath his feet with every step. Small specks of fires still burnt within demolished store fronts, their flickering flames made brighter by the reflection off the glass-strewn roads. Everywhere, the smell of smoke and a thick haze permeated the quiet air.

Kendrick hadn't returned home until well past midnight, but sleep had eluded him. At the first signs of dawn, he'd gotten dressed and quietly slipped out of the apartment. All night long, he had tried to stay in Hannah's neighborhood, worried that David might be recognized and targeted. Several Jews had been rounded up and taken away by the SS, their fate unknown. A few, he'd heard, had also been killed. Even though he was now an Oberscharführer, or Senior Squad Leader, there were many things about the more militaristic Schutzstaffel that remained a mystery.

Eventually, he arrived at David's apartment. It was still early in the morning and, to his relief, not many people were out. Kendrick had to be careful when visiting David while in uniform. If someone he knew saw him, there might be questions asked—ones that he didn't have answers for.

Entering the building, he went up to the second floor and down the hall to the last apartment. Once he reached David's front door, Kendrick paused and took a deep breath. He raised his hand and softly knocked. After hearing the faint sound of footsteps approach from inside the apartment, the door cracked open, just enough so Kendrick could see who was inside.

"What do you want?" Jakob asked, his voice low and tight.

"Is David here, Herr Starsky?"

The man gave him a long look. "He's still asleep. I'll tell him you came by."

As the door started to close, Kendrick threw out a hand to stop it.

"I need to see him," he begged.

"Papa—it's alright. Let him in." David's voice drifted out from behind the door.

Jakob hesitated for a moment, then turned towards his son. "This is not safe anymore, for either of you. Now tell him 'goodbye'."

Kendrick caught a glimpse of his friend through the partially opened door. David moved closer to his father. "Let him come in, please. He tried to warn me."

Jakob sighed and moved back, allowing Kendrick to enter, then closed the door behind him. Kendrick noticed that David was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. His face appeared pale and dark circles hung under each eye.

"We have some tea, no coffee. Would you like a cup?" Jakob's offer was quick and tense.

"No, thank you." Kendrick answered. Turning to David, he said, "I tried to find you last night. Are you alright?"

"Does he look alright!"

"Papa…"

Jakob stepped in front of Kendrick. "Tell me, how many Jews did you attack last night? How many buildings did you set on fire?" he demanded.

"Papa, stop!" David approached his father and placed a hand on his shoulder. "He's not like them."

"Not like them!" Jakob's eyes wandered over Kendrick's uniform, then settled on the Swastika arm band. "Then your eyes are blind, my son," he announced.

Jakob eyed Kendrick with one last look of disdain. He left and went into his bedroom, slamming the door so hard the whole apartment shook.

David had watched him leave and now sheepishly looked at Kendrick. "He's upset. After I got home, one of his cousins came by. He said the Nazis burned our temple, along with all of the books and scrolls." David' added, "He also told us that dozens of Jews were taken away. No one knows where they went."

"I'm…I'm sorry about what happened…to those people. I just wanted to see if you were alright. Did you see Hannah?"

"No, I never got to her house," David said in a low tone. "This isn't a good time, Kendrick. Maybe you shouldn't come over here anymore."

The last words hit Kendrick hard. David had every right to ask him to go, considering what the uniform must mean to him now. Kendrick wished he could do something to lessen the growing amount of tension between him and David's father—show him what was truly in his heart. But as Kendrick stood uncomfortably in the man's living room, he couldn't even think of anything fitting to say to David. With a resigned sigh, Kendrick stuck his hands in his pockets and headed for the door. Before he stepped out into the hallway, though, he stopped.

"David, you're my best friend. My parents, they've given me a lot and this is what they want for me." He paused and studied his friend's face. "I have to think about my future, you know. I don't agree with everything the youth leaders tell us, but…"

"But you and your friends still march around in your stupid uniforms, yelling 'Sieg Heil!' and 'Kill the Jews!'"

Kendrick was speechless. A part of him wanted to knock David across the chin, the other half wanted to turn tail and run away before the hurt inside broke free. He settled for something in between.

"You have no idea what it's like for me! I'm in charge of dozens of recruits and I have a lot of responsibility. They're telling me I could easily become a Wehrmacht officer because I'm a good leader." Looking into David's eyes, Kendrick couldn't leave it at that. "David, I don't hate you, I could never hate you. I know you're a Jew, but that's not what I see when I..."

"Of course I'm a Jew!" David yelled, stepping closer. "How can you not see that? Don't you watch in class when they call me up front, and use those shitty tongs on my head? Measuring. Telling me I'm not an Aryan?" David stopped and stared hotly at him. "So…tell me," he continued. "What do you see?"

"I see someone I've known all my life," Kendrick answered. "Someone that used to be happy for me because he was my best friend. That's what I see."

The fire in David's eyes cooled. "We were kids back then—now, it's different."

"No, David. Times are different, but we're still the same people."

"No. You're wrong—you're not supposed to like me anymore. I'm just filthy swine, infesting the earth, right? I mean, if you touch me, your dick will fall off. Isn't that what your instructors tell you?"

"Why are you saying all these things?" Kendrick demanded. "Do you want me to hate you? Would you be happy if everyone hated you?"

"Everyone does hate me! And I don't even understand why!" David's gaze drifted to one side. "I saw a man killed last night, for nothing. A Jew. He was just attacked and…beaten to death. He never even tried to defend himself."

"I didn't know…"

"You know why I wanted to go to Hannah's last night?" David interrupted, his voice shaking. "I was going to ask her to marry me. I had a ring and everything."

"You didn't tell me you'd gotten a ring. Let me see it."

David hung his head. "I lost it."

"You lost it? How?"

"Probably when I got thrown down on the street."

"Who did that?"

"Does it matter?" David yelled, raising his voice. "It's gone! It took me months to save up that money. Months! All those times I went without…oh, what does it matter?"

Kendrick felt a tug on his heart. It made sense now. The excuses David gave when they'd gone out and he'd declined to buy something. David's employer barely paid him anything to begin with, and with Jakob not having a steady job anymore, the loss of Hannah's ring must have been excruciating.

He lifted a hand and placed it on David's shoulder. "I'm sorry, kumpel. I wish there was something I could do."

"What have you got to be sorry for? It wasn't your fault," he said sarcastically. Then, in a more disappointed tone, added, "I'll just have to find something else." David walked over to the nearest window and pulled the shade back. With a slight toss of his head, he announced, "It's getting light outside, now. Papa doesn't want me to go to school today so I'm going back to bed."

Kendrick glanced through the same window. David was right; the sun had risen turning the grey sky to light blue. "If I find out what happened to those people, I'll let you know," Kendrick remarked.

David nodded his head.

"See you soon?"

Another nod. "I'll be working…come by the store. I guess it should still be standing, huh? The owner is a Catholic."

Kendrick bowed his head and stared at his boots. "Tell your father I said 'goodbye."

Kendrick let himself out and shut the door behind him. Once he got down to the street, he stopped and looked around the neighborhood. On the surface, everything seemed fine; the buildings on this side of town had been spared by the mob. But somehow it just didn't feel right. Suddenly, he realized what was different. It was like watching David a little while ago. His friend still looked the same, but inside there'd been a change—as if the part of him that gave off energy and exuberance had died. Kendrick squinted and glanced over at the sun.

Anyone not knowing better could've sworn this was a beautiful day.

David lay in bed and stared up through the dark haze. He'd closed the curtains and tried to go to sleep, but last night's events, coupled with losing Hannah's ring, had kept his mind spinning in turmoil. He wanted to go and see her, but that was impossible. Any Jew venturing out on the street today would be asking for trouble.

He wondered if she was at home and safe. As a Jew, Hannah faced the same risks as he did. He tried to draw comfort from the fact that she would probably know why he didn't come last night. He just hoped she wasn't lying in her bed, worried about him.

Not ready to face the many realities yet ahead of him, the least of which was finding a suitable replacement for the ring, he closed his eyes. But then a soft noise filtered into the room, interrupting his attempts to go to sleep. At first he wasn't sure what it was, but the sound quickly became recognizable. A woman's voice. David jumped out of bed and raced out of his room, heading for the front door. Flinging it open, he gazed in disbelief at the person standing there.

"Hannah! What are you doing here?"

The young woman stepped inside and instantly threw her arms around him. "Oh, you are safe!" she cried.

He squeezed her tightly and laid his cheek into her silky, thick hair. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he muttered. Locked together, he held onto her as if for dear life, cherishing every rise of her chest as it pushed against his. For a long moment, nothing was said. It didn't have to be. Every thought that passed through his mind centered on the love he felt for this woman. When they separated, David cupped a hand under her chin and gently tilted it upward. "I tried to come last night, but…you know what happened, don't you?"

"Yes," she answered. "That's why I had to see you. I needed to know that you were well."

David shook his head and pulled her in against his chest. She had risked a great deal coming to see him, and at the moment, only his love for her outweighed his relief. He held her in a tight embrace, and let her fragrant smell work its way deep into his lungs.

Separating himself, he said, "Come into the kitchen and sit down. Would you like some tea?"

"Only if you're having some yourself."

He felt himself grin. That was Hannah. Always willing to share whenever she could. Her family wasn't rich. They were poor, like his, but would lend someone their last dollar if they needed it. Papa would do the same, only he'd charge a little interest for his trouble.

After setting the kettle on the stove to boil, David took two cups out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.

"How is it outside?" he asked, feeling he already knew the answer.

"Many stores are damaged. There is so much broken glass on the sidewalks, it's hard to keep from slipping," she replied. "I never realized there were so many Jewish businesses. Those poor owners, I doubt if anyone is going to be arrested. They'll have to pay for fixing everything out of their own pockets." She paused, then asked, "Have you seen Kendrick yet?"

"He came over early this morning." David noticed the uneasy look on her face, and sat down at the table. "He's not feeling good about what happened. He actually warned me about last night, right before I left the store to come see you."

"He knew?" she exclaimed. "He told you and then…what? Did he go and break windows, too?"

"Hannah," David said defensively, "he had to join them. He didn't have a choice."

She dropped her gaze onto the table. "I'm sorry. I know he is your friend."

David let out a sigh. He got up and turned the heat off under the boiling kettle. After pouring the hot liquid into the teapot, he returned and placed it on the table.

"We don't have any sugar," he said, staring at his empty cup.

"That's alright," Hannah replied. Reaching across the table, she laid her hand on his arm. "I shouldn't have accused him. I'm glad that he at least told you. Did you go home then, after you saw him?"

David squirmed in his seat. "Not right away, but as soon as I saw there was going to be trouble, I came home," he replied, reasoning that his answer wasn't really a lie.

"Well, I'm just glad that you didn't get hurt." Hannah withdrew her hand and laid it in her lap. "My parents are scared about what this means," she admitted in a tense voice. "The Nazis have never liked the Jews, but so far it's only been hateful words thrown at us. Now it's bricks and lighted torches. We heard that some men were killed, others taken away. Is it true?"

Obviously, Hannah had heard the same stories. For once, David wished he could lie and tell her that those inconceivable events were just rumors and nothing else. But they weren't. He'd seen the most horrific ones happen with his own eyes.

"It's all true," he replied.

"Mein Gott!" she exclaimed in a stressed whisper. "How do I tell my family something like this?"

"They're strong people, and so are you. We all are. I'm sure this won't last very long. People will learn about what happened last night and they'll force the government to stop."

"Do you really think so?"

David studied the hope-filled eyes, and for a moment, he almost believed it himself. Even though Nazis were in control, there must be other, more conscientious people who would voice their disgust over what had happened. But whose faces were those that watched an elderly man beaten to death? How many were community leaders? Catholics? Protestants? Righteous people of any faith? A nauseating rush of despair went through him. What if everyone believed Jews were a race of degenerates, destined for annihilation?

Quickly calming his fears, he put on his most convincing face. "Yes, I do."

The sound of the front door opening startled David. He'd been sitting in the kitchen, looking through one of his school books. As Jakob appeared in the doorway, he seemed just as surprised to see his son as David was to see him.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in school?"

"I got kicked out. Why are you home so early?"

Jakob closed the door and came into the kitchen. He placed his satchel on the table, and stared at David. "What happened at school?"

David shrugged his shoulders a little. "Nothing. They had me and Fitchl go to the headmaster's office. He told us we were being expelled."

"But why? Your grades, they were good, no? You're supposed to graduate next spring!"

"I know that, Papa!" David bit his tongue. He didn't mean any disrespect by raising his voice. Casting his eyes downward, he softly said, "He told us Jews weren't allowed in school anymore."

A long moment of silence passed. David hesitantly raised his head and peered at Jakob. He hadn't seen his father look like that since mother died. Deciding to change the subject, he asked, "So what are you doing home? I thought you said this morning you'd be working until this evening."

Jakob's shoulders dropped. He pulled out a chair and sat down beside David.

"I don't have a job anymore. My employer doesn't want anything to happen to his store because he has a Jew working for him."

A push of emotions started to well up inside of David. Disappointment, anger, hurt, hopelessness. The strongest, despair, brought with it the sting of tears. They hardly had any money left as it was. What if his own boss told him the same thing when he went to work? Both he and Jakob had planned to use their next paychecks to buy some groceries. Other than a few cans of beans, there was nothing edible in the house. David thought about the lost ring. If he still had it, would he sell it so they could buy some food?

"David, I've been thinking…" Jakob's voice interrupted. "Maybe we should go and stay with your Uncle Emir."

"Uncle Emir?" he yelped. "He lives in Poland! That's over two days of traveling from here!"

"I know how far it is, which is why we should go there. The farther we get from Germany, the better."

"Papa, I don't want to go to Poland. Germany is our home."

"Our home is anyplace the two of us are together. Besides, I grew up there and it is no different from Germany...other than there are no Nazis. It will be fine, you'll see. Uncle Emir has a big house."

David leaned back in his chair and sulked. When Papa's mind was made up, there was no use in fighting him. For now, he could only cling to the small hope that Uncle Emir would say no. Since David didn't have anything to do until he left for work, he got up and went to grab his coat.

"Where are you going?" Jakob asked.

"Out. I need some fresh air."

"David…don't tell Kendrick about what we discussed. Is that clear?"

Pausing by the front door, David considered his father's request. As he put his coat on, he said, "If we're moving away, then he needs to know."

"David!"

"What Papa? The Nazis want us out of Germany, so what's the difference if he knows or not? I keep telling you, he's not like them." Seeing the torn look on Jakob's face, David remarked, "I won't tell him about Uncle Emir, just that we're leaving."

With that, he slipped out of the apartment and hurried down to the street. Kendrick wasn't the only one he had to share the bad news with.

TBC