The Words We Whisper by Mary Ellen Taylor

Author:Mary Ellen Taylor [Taylor, Mary Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Montlake
Published: 2021-07-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ISABELLA

Rome, Italy

Saturday, October 16, 1943, 7:00 p.m.

“Signor Bianco is very angry,” Signora Fontana said. “He has worried all week about his grandmother. The wife insists the grandmother is staying so they can escape with their unborn child. Poor thing can only stomach bread, but she’s strong and determined to get to Switzerland.”

“A child, so soon?” I sat at the kitchen table with the Biancos’ identity papers, the acetone, and scraps of muslin. “Of course. These are more modern times.”

I opened the first set of papers, which were Edoardo Bianco’s. “This trick works on fabric, and I’ve heard it removes ink from paper.”

“How will this work?” the signora said.

“Let us see.” I twisted the muslin into a fine point, unscrewed the top of the acetone jar, and dipped the tip inside. Very carefully, I blotted only where the blue stained the page. “We are lucky the clerk didn’t stamp over the picture.”

“Maybe he hoped someone like you would come along.”

“Maybe.” I carefully rubbed the blue ink in tiny increments until slowly the letter was gone. While I left the first set of papers out to dry, I worked on the second. It took an hour, but in the end, both identity cards were passable as long as they were not scrutinized too closely.

The front door opened, and the signora and I quickly hid the papers. As I was closing up the jar, Mia entered the kitchen. She held up a bagful of eggs. “I come bearing gifts.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I live here,” she said brightly.

“I thought you lived with Hauptmann Brenner.” No effort was made to hide my displeasure.

“He’s too busy tonight.” She yawned. “It smells like Rene’s in here.”

“I borrowed some acetone. I have a stain in my white blouse.”

“Ah,” she said, peering toward the table. “I hope you removed your stain.”

“Yes.”

She set her eggs on the counter, kissed the signora on the cheek, and left. Listening to her footsteps, I prayed the Biancos were very quiet.

“What will we do with Mia?” the signora whispered.

“There is nothing we can do. We need another two days, and the Biancos will be gone.”

“I love that girl, but I don’t know if I trust her anymore.”

“We’ll pray for her silence if she does see something.” I kissed her on the cheek. “Go to bed. I’ll lock up.”

I waited until the signora vanished into her room, and she finally turned off the light. As I climbed the stairs, my legs were wooden and so heavy. Just a couple of days and the young couple would be safely on their way.

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