“Oh!” Kitty was staring at an envelope with her name on it, which had the words “International Settlement of Shanghai” stamped across the top. She glanced up at Martha, then ripped open the flap.
“It’s from someone called Ruth Medavoy.” Kitty’s hand trembled as she held the letter. “She says the rabbi passed my letter on to her. She’s the wife of the silk merchant my parents did business with.”
“What does she say?”
Kitty’s eyes darted across the page. She drew in a breath and closed her eyes. “She says they did get to Shanghai.” Her eyes snapped open, brimming with tears. “They lived with her until the Japanese forced the Jews to move into the ghetto.”
“Oh, Kitty!” Martha searched her face, half-afraid of what was coming next.
“They didn’t go to the ghetto.” Kitty drew the back of her hand across her eyes and read aloud: “‘Many people went into hiding at that time. We left Shanghai and went to live in the north, but your parents went to another place. We have only just returned to the city. Everything is in disarray. I’m afraid I can’t give you an address to write to because I don’t know where your parents might be. I have heard that people are still in hiding.’”
Kitty looked up. “I . . . I can’t believe it.” Her teeth were rattling as she spoke. “Th . . . they m . . . m . . . made it. B . . . b . . . but now they . . .”
Martha shot around the desk as Kitty collapsed into the chair. She cradled Kitty’s head in her arms and hugged her tight. There was no resistance, no attempt to pull away. “It’s going to be all right,” she murmured, stroking Kitty’s hair. “It won’t be long. You’ll find them.”
Kitty mumbled something Martha couldn’t quite make out.
Martha glanced at the ceiling, willing what she’d said to be true. It would be so cruel, to have gotten this far, only for the trail to go cold.
Kitty had to wait a whole week to share the news about her parents with Charlie. He’d been given leave with immediate effect and had gone skiing in the Bavarian Alps. On his first day back, he rang through to the office to tell her—and she ran all the way there.
“Hey! What’s this?” He stroked her face with his fingers when she broke away from kissing him.
“I’m sorry—I promised myself I wouldn’t.” She swallowed back the tears brimming her eyes. In a few staccato sentences she told him about the letter and what it contained.
“That’s fantastic news!” He gathered her up in his arms and held her tight. “I wish I’d been here when it came. You must have been blown away!”
“I was,” she murmured. “I couldn’t believe that they’d made it—all that way across Europe and Russia. But I can hardly bear it, knowing that but not knowing where they are.”
“It’s only a matter of time, though, isn’t it? They’ll soon get things organized, like they did here when the war ended. Your parents could be in a camp already—and if they are, it won’t be long until lists are sent out.”
“I keep hoping that’s what’s happened,” Kitty said. “Mrs. Medavoy wrote the letter at the end of November—more than two months ago.”
“So, you could get news any day.”
“But what if they . . .” She broke off, burying her face in the folds of his jacket.
“Try not to think that way.” He rubbed his hands across her shoulders.
She raised her head. “I do try. But there’s this voice in my head that tells me not to get my hopes up, that I’m stupid for allowing myself to get excited.”
“Don’t ever believe that.” He kissed her forehead, nuzzling her hair. She felt his hand move off her shoulder. There was a rustle of fabric. Then he said, “I hope you won’t be mad at me. I know what you said, about not being able to commit until you found out for sure about your mom and dad, but . . .” He released her, took a step back, and held out his hand. “I saw this in a little shop in the Alps. I couldn’t resist it.”
She stared at the small black box cupped in his fingers.
“Can I show you?” He opened the lid to reveal a ruby ring encircled with tiny diamonds. “It reminded me of that night we had before Christmas,” he said. “Do you remember? The fire with the snow glistening all around it? And you looking up at the stars, watching the northern lights turn red?” He searched her face. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. You can wear it on any finger you want. I just wanted you to have it.”