CHAPTER 13
BOARDING THE TRAIN
(January 1939)
Peter waited through the dark night, cold and scared. When at last the sun rose over Berlin, he climbed down from the tree and struggled to pick up the lifeless Bruno. Bent over, he dragged the heavy dog, weighing nearly as much as he did, back to Stephen’s house.
He gently laid the best dog in the world under the large rosebush and covered him with leaves. This was an unfitting burial for such a loyal friend, but it was the best Peter could do. He would just tell them that he had found a new home for Bruno, and in a way, that was true.
All Peter could think about was Bruno and his cruel murder. Nothing was the same in Germany. When cowardly hidden assassins could gun down dogs and shoot at eleven-year-old boys, it was time to go, he though
