Dropping the photograph, Abby swallowed and opened the slip of paper accompanying it with trembling fingers.
Dear Gloria,
We pulled some strings and spoke with one helpful gentleman at the National Archives. Though they confirmed there are no verified photographs of Officer Irma Mentz, they do have several in which the officer is in question. This photograph is believed to be him. It matches the time and place, although they have no official confirmation of the identity of the officer. Victims typically identify and confirm a Nazi soldier. When researchers discovered this photo, they began the process of reaching out and possibly finding answers. For now, this is what we have.
I hope this helps.
Ezra Eeckhart
Board of Trustee, Simon Wiesenthal Center
With a sigh, she set the letter aside, her eyes snagging on the white envelope marked with her name in GG’s handwriting. Tears stung her eyes as she held on to the gift. She had thought she had received the last one when Klein’s office had been broken into. Why her grandfather saved this final letter was beyond her, but she didn’t care. She hugged the envelope to her chest and stood, leaving everything else behind.
She was done with secrets and clues.
Checking her watch, she noted the time. She was due home. Cammie was taking her out tonight, a welcome home celebration of sorts after being away.
Abby exited the way she came, standing in the threshold one last time and gazing around her. She was ready to say goodbye.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Abby pulled up to the curb of her house and got out of her car.
She shuffled down the sidewalk and plopped herself down on the stone steps leading to the house, not yet ready to go inside and explain how her visit with her grandfather went.
Her gaze traveled over their perfectly manicured lawn, with their lush green grass, to the “For Sale” sign at the edge of the yard.
A fresh start, her mother had called it. Her parents had decided a home in the country was just what they needed. While Abby was away at college, working on her own new beginning, they’d be tending a vegetable garden and harvesting eggs from a half dozen chickens. Though part of her was sad to see her childhood home go, she understood her mother’s need for distance from a house full of memories too painful to rehash day-in and day-out. And though the thought of Abby’s future was exciting, something felt off. Something was missing. And though she tried to ignore it, she couldn’t ignore the hole in her heart.
When her phone broke the silence, she fished it out of her pocket and answered. “Hello.”
“Oh my gosh. You couldn’t sound more depressing if you tried,” Cammie moaned.
Smiling, Abby pressed the phone against her ear. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
Silence.
“Seriously, Cam, I’m okay.”
“If you’re okay after your meeting with Hannibal Lector, then there’s only one thing that could be bothering you.”
“Why am I still friends with you?” Abby asked.
If Cammie hadn’t been a complete and utter rock for her through all of this, she’d probably have throttled her by now.
“’Cuz you love me.” Cammie chirped. “And speaking of loooove—”
“Don’t even start.”
“What? Did you suddenly get over him? Meet some hottie at the penitentiary, did you?”
“I told you a million times. If he wants to contact me, he will. He’ll find a way. It’s not like he doesn’t know where I live.”
Cammie had been bugging Abby for two weeks to go and see Kaden, but she couldn’t. Call her a coward, but she just couldn’t face him. Not after everything that happened. If his opinion of her hadn’t changed when the news of her grandfather broke, he would’ve reached out himself.
“Pretty soon, he won’t. Your parents are moving, duh.”
Abby sighed. “He knows I’m going to George Mason in the fall. And it’s not like he didn’t have plenty of opportunities to reach out to you at school.”