The Orphan's Tale(47)

He continues, “I’ve asked them for an extension, explained that the tour dates are set and that canceling would be damaging to the business. But as you know, the Reich doesn’t care about business.”

“No,” I agree. They would not hesitate to punish us for stepping out of line.

I have been recognized and Herr Neuhoff knows it. The audacity of it all dawns on me: How could I have thought I might remain hidden in something as big and public as the circus? “I should go,” I say slowly. Herr Neuhoff’s eyes widen. “Leave the circus. I’ve brought too much danger to the show already.” I have no idea where I would go. But I had left once; I could do it again.

“No, that isn’t what I had in mind at all,” he protests hurriedly.

“But if my presence is bringing danger, then I should leave,” I persist.

“Don’t be silly. The circus cannot function without you. He cannot function without you.” Herr Neuhoff gestures with his head toward the field to the spot where Peter has returned to practicing. I wonder if what Herr Neuhoff says is true. Then I look down at Theo. He needs me, as does Noa. “You will stay. This is your home.” He coughs once, then again. “If we can just ride out the season here in France.”

“I understand. I will talk to Peter,” I promise.

“That’s a start,” he says; his face remains troubled. “But I’m afraid it isn’t all.”

“I don’t understand. What more can I do?”

“You see, the status quo is our friend and we must do whatever we can to preserve it. The circus must be kept going at all costs. So that’s why I’m doing it,” he says. I tilt my head, puzzled. “Since that German soldier saw you...” He takes a deep breath. “I have no choice but to remove you from the show.”





12

Noa

I hurry toward the fairgrounds, not looking back toward Luc, even when I reach the cover of the trees. Halfway through the woods, I realize that I have been running. I slow to catch my breath. Meeting Luc was strange, and the way he watched me left me with a feeling of lingering discomfort. But it was exciting, too, a spark where I had not expected to feel one again. I imagine telling Astrid, confiding in her like the sister I never had.

Twenty minutes later, I reach the fairgrounds. As I near the train, I see Astrid standing by the entrance to the sleeper car, glowering. For a minute, I think she is angry that I was gone so long. Or perhaps she saw me speaking with Luc. Her eyes burn with rage as I climb onto the train. Then Herr Neuhoff’s bulky silhouette appears in the doorway behind her and I realize that it is something much more serious than that.

“How could you?” she demands. “How could you do it?”

She has somehow learned my secret. About the German soldier. About the baby.

“I know the truth,” Astrid snarls, coming at me. I freeze. “How could you?”

Astrid nears, arms raised, as though she intends to strike me. I step back, tripping over the edge of a steamer trunk sticking out from beneath a berth.

Astrid’s face is inches from mine and I can feel her hot breath and spittle. “He’s pulled me from the act.” I realize she is talking about the fact that I had told Herr Neuhoff someone had recognized her at the show. She does not know my secret.

This is almost as bad, though. All of the trust I have worked to build with Astrid is gone. Her eyes glower like hot coals. “No!” I blurt. Despite his promise, Herr Neuhoff had revealed that it was me who told him after all. Now Astrid is out of the show.

“You’re a liar,” she says, fists clenched.

“There, there,” Peter murmurs to Astrid, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her. But he does not step between us or hold her back.

“Astrid.” Herr Neuhoff steps forward, trying to intervene. “It wasn’t Noa...”

But she moves around him, still coming at me. “Are you trying to replace me, you little demon?”

The idea is so far-fetched, I could almost laugh aloud—if Astrid was not so angry. “Not at all,” I protest quickly. Her distrust cuts through me like a dagger. “I would never do that. I was worried about you.” I had thought I was doing it for her own good, but I see now how it must look to her. A few of the other girls have gathered in the door of the carriage, and they whisper, eyeing me with unmasked hostility. Performers do not tell on one another. I had broken a cardinal rule—and risked the show. One of the girls is holding Theo and I take him from her, clutching him close to my chest like armor.

Then I turn to Peter, who has been watching the fight. “She was in danger. You know that.”

He shrugs, unwilling to side against Astrid to help me. “You shouldn’t have done it. The secret was hers to tell or not.” But his voice carries no force. Deep down, he knows I had done it to protect Astrid where he had not dared—and is silently thanking me for it.

“I kept your secret,” Astrid growls in a low voice. I glance over my shoulder where Herr Neuhoff stands just behind me, praying he has not heard.

“This is different,” I whisper. Can’t she see that? I told in order to protect her. I hold my breath, waiting for her to tell the others that Theo is not my brother. But she turns away, still shaking with anger.

“We’ll need to fix the damage and take precautions,” Herr Neuhoff interjects, his voice more authoritative than I have heard. “Astrid will sit out the show for the remainder of our performances in Thiers.”