“You look like a true German,” Ursula said when Tom stepped out of his room dressed in Andreas’ clothes.
“I could fool anyone, right?” He grinned and rose to his full, impressive height of six-one.
“As long as you don’t open your mouth,” Ursula giggled nervously.
Tom put on a mock offended face. “You want to imply my German is bad? That’s not nice.”
“Well, your German is surprisingly good, but your accent…” She imitated the peculiar way he pronounced the German words and giggled again. Her nerves were strung tight. Soon, the most dangerous part yet would begin, actually walking outside on the streets with him.
She handed him the black soutane, praying nobody would question the disguise. Then they waited together until the blaring radio from the apartment next door faded. Ursula could
