A sudden shouting from out on the street made all three women startle. The proprietor brushed past Audrey to the window.
“What is it?” Audrey asked, foreboding flickering inside her.
“The police,” the saleswoman said quietly. “Gestapo, I think. Again.”
Audrey went to the window, Ilse behind her. They peered out and Audrey’s stomach plummeted. Ira was standing on the pavement across the street, facing a uniformed officer.
“Papa!” Ilse gasped. “Good God, what’s happening?” Her eyes were wide and round, like prey that knows it’s been cornered. Knows what’s coming next.
“I don’t…” Audrey trailed off. She scanned the crowd as the Gestapo officer continued to shout at Ira. There were more policemen. Four or five that Audrey could see.
“Only shopping,” she heard Ira say. “Not a crime…”
There were Ruth and Ephraim, just behind him, off to the side. As Audrey watched, the crowd of shoppers and pedestrians dispersed, melting into the ether before the soldiers turned hungry eyes on them too. Audrey couldn’t process what she was seeing fast enough, and then the officer in front of Ira raised his gun.
The saleswoman screamed as the shot cracked through the cold air and Ira dropped to the ground in a burst of blood.
“Papa!” Ilse cried. “Papa!”
“No!” Audrey shouted.
“Oh God,” the saleswoman murmured. She looked at Ilse, then at the street and back again. “Is that—”
Ilse made a dash toward the shop door.
“Ilse, no!” Audrey lunged forward and seized her around the shoulders. “You can’t! You must stay here!”
But Ilse squirmed, trying to shove her off. “No!” she screamed. “No! Papa!”
Audrey wrapped her arms around Ilse as tightly as she could and Ilse stopped fighting, collapsing into her. She could feel her friend’s heart pounding as sobs racked her body.
This could not be happening. It couldn’t.
Audrey glanced out the window again, blinking at the sight of Ira’s prone body. Blood was pooling. She pivoted her body to block Ilse’s view.
“They’re rounding people up,” the saleswoman said, her face wan.
Audrey watched over Ilse’s shoulder, sickened by the scene unfolding in front of her. A large black van had pulled up. The soldiers were still shouting. Another shot rang out, and a renewed wave of screams crested. Ilse turned around to face the window before Audrey could stop her.
At the sight of her father, she let out a strangled cry.
Audrey’s heart was racing. The back doors of the van opened as officers began seizing anyone within reach and shoving them inside. Two more shots, and another body crumpled to the ground. But Audrey’s eyes were locked on Ruth, who was kneeling over her husband, tears streaming down her red face as chaos reigned around them. Ephraim approached her from behind, a paper shopping bag still clutched in his hand. A soldier grabbed him by the collar, pulling him back toward the van. Ruth rose, shouting something at the soldier, a plea, and Audrey felt a surge of terror. He waved his gun in Ephraim’s direction and Ruth stepped between the pistol and her son. Ilse wailed.
The soldier indicated the van, and then Ira’s body. Ruth nodded. As she turned toward the vehicle, her eyes scanned the street, searching, finally landing on the dress shop window and Ilse, who pushed back against Audrey.
The pandemonium seemed to fade into the background in those few seconds when Ruth locked eyes with her daughter. The look in them seared itself on Audrey’s memory; the blistering anguish of a woman who knows this may be the last time she will ever set eyes on her child. But there was a softness there too. In what she knew might be her final act as Ilse’s mother, Ruth Kaplan’s deepest instinct was to comfort.
I love you, she mouthed.
A soldier pushed her toward the van. She took Ephraim’s hand, climbed in, and disappeared.
“No!” Ilse cried. “No! Mama! Mama! Ephraim!” She made another attempt for the door. “Where are they taking them?!”
“No!” Both Audrey and the saleswoman said together, reaching for Ilse. They held her back as the van doors slammed shut.
“Ilse, you’re no good to them if you get taken as well,” Audrey pled. Tears were running down her own face now. “Stay here. You must stay here, I beg you!”
The saleswoman darted to the windows and pulled the curtains shut with a sharp swish, then locked the door.
Ilse moaned like a wounded animal and leaned against Audrey. They heard more vehicle doors slamming in the distance, a few men’s voices, then eventual silence.
Audrey twitched her head toward the window. Is he still there? she mouthed to the saleswoman, who, to Audrey’s surprise, had tear tracks on her face.
The woman pulled the edge of the curtain aside an inch. She peered out, then shook her head. “No one.”
After nearly half an hour, Ilse coughed herself into silence, her bloodshot eyes staring down at the dress shop floor as she wrung her hands. Audrey followed her gaze. At some point, the deep crimson dress had fallen and now lay in a puddle. Audrey blinked rapidly to dispel the image of Ira and the blood that had pooled on the ground behind him moments before.
She brushed the hair back off Ilse’s wet, swollen face. “Ilse?” she whispered.
But Ilse continued to stare, unresponsive. Suddenly, she began to shake.
“She’s in shock,” the saleswoman said, and her heels clicked on the wooden floor as she hurried away, returning a moment later with a glass of water and two large woolen shawls, which she tenderly wrapped around Ilse’s shoulders.
“You need to get out of here,” she said to Audrey once Ilse had finally ceased trembling. “I can let you out the back way, into the alley. But you must go. It isn’t safe.”
Audrey stood, supporting Ilse. The woman led them to the back of the shop and opened a door into a dim, odorous alleyway.
“Thank you,” Audrey offered, but the woman shook her head.
