"It's not so bad, Alicia," Anna said. "I cried, too, when I found out-"

"So did I," Gottlieb added, which made Alicia's eyes widen. He was so much older than she that she thought of him as practically a grownup.

Anna went on, "But it's special in a way, like being part of a club that won't take just anybody. And it's not like what we are is written on our foreheads or anything like that, even though it does feel like it at first. But if we keep the secret, no one will find out what we are. We even have our own special holidays-today is one."

"What's today?" Alicia asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

"Today is the festival of Purim," her father answered. "The Germans and the Spaniards Aunt Esther was talking about weren't the first people who wanted to get rid of the Jews. We've always stood out a little because we're different from the other people in a country. And a long time ago, in the Persian Empire…"

He got out a Bible to help tell Alicia the story. Not every family had one in its house or flat these days. Still, the National Socialists mostly tolerated quiet Christianity. Alicia's teachers sometimes made scornful noises about a religion better fit for slaves than for heroes, but she'd never heard of the Security Police paying a call on anybody who believed in Jesus. She didn't know what would happen if somebody made a fuss about Jesus, but people knew better than to make fusses about such things. Christianity that wasn't quiet was dangerous, too.

"And so," her father finished, "King Ahasuerus hanged Haman on the very gallows he'd built for Mordechai, and Mordechai and Queen Esther lived long, happy, rich lives afterwards." Caught up in the ancient tale even though she hadn't really wanted to be, Alicia laughed and clapped her hands.