Recap: Miri took Breindy to a carnival and somehow Breindy got lost. Miri searches for her at the carnival and then heads home, hoping to find Breindy there. Breindy is there in the courtyard. The girls are in the courtyard when a heavy thunderstorm comes. A branch from one of the trees strikes Miri on the head.
I opened my eyes. My head was pounding. I was lying on a couch in the castle living room. A fire crackled in the large fireplace. Moonlight streamed through the French casement window. Why was I lying here?
A woman wearing a long, aqua silk dress with a white overtunic approached me. A cone-shaped hat perched on her head with a long, white scarf that trailed behind it.
“How are you feeling?” she asked as she knelt beside me.
“Who are you?” I asked. I tried to sit up, but black dots appeared everywhere. Everything was spinning. I sank back down.
“There, there, don’t try to move. You had quite a blow to the head from that olive tree.”
Olive tree? What was she talking about? Who was she? I tried to make sense of what was going on. I was in Spain, I remembered, and I was staying in the castle with Katie and Breindy.
Katie appeared. I closed my eyes. Maybe this was a dream?
Sometime later, Katie was beside me. “Miri, thank G-d. I was so worried about you. The lightning bolt struck that big olive tree and the branch clunked you on the head.”
“No wonder my head is pounding.”
“You have to rest. The doctor was here.”
That must have been the lady I’d seen.
Just then, the lady in the aqua dress appeared. “Good, you’re awake. I have some nice broth for you.”
I wanted to ask her why she was wearing the strange costume. “Do doctors dress like you in Spain?”
The lady looked at Katie. “She’s had a blow to the head. It makes anyone disoriented. I’ll go get the broth.”
The lady doctor’s gown swished as she left the room. I heard a fire crackling in the fireplace.
I remember sipping some broth, and then I sank into a restless sleep.
When I awoke, sunlight streamed through the living room window.
I sat up. Baruch Hashem, I felt so much better. I went upstairs to look for my mother. She must have been worried about me. There was a lady upstairs sweeping the floors. I guessed my aunt and uncle must have hired a cleaning lady. She wore a long dress of coarse, brown material with a black tunic over it.
Katie strolled out of one of the bedrooms.
“How are you feeling?”
“Baruch Hashem, much better.” I followed Katie into the bedroom that we were sharing. Something about it looked different.
“You rearranged the room?” I asked.
“The lamp is gone.” I noticed a candlestick holder on the night table between the two canopy beds.
“I think I’ll daven in the courtyard,” Katie said. She looked around the room. “I thought I left my suitcase over there.”
Neither of our suitcases were there.
“Maybe the cleaning lady moved them,” I said.
“We need siddurim. Let’s go see if they have some in the living room.”
The bookshelves had only a few books, and they were written on parchment paper. None of them were siddurim. They were about the history of Spain, and one had Christian holidays. That was strange.
The lady with the aqua dress glided into the room. “How are you feeling?”
“Baruch Hashem, fine,” I said.
She put her finger to her lips.
“We need siddurim,” I said.
She moved closer and whispered in my ear.
“You can’t say things like that aloud. You know the walls have ears. Come, follow me.”
Katie and I exchanged puzzled glances.
She led us to a hidden staircase behind a wall in the dining room. It was a long, winding staircase going down, which ended in a large room with no windows. There were two crystal candlesticks on a table, and a large dining room table and chairs. She pointed to a bookshelf against the wall.
I took down a siddur. I opened it. It was heavy, made of parchment. The letters were all written in handwritten ink.
“This is a very old siddur,” I said.
“It’s been in our family for a while. Please daven here. Just remember not to say anything about anything Jewish when you are upstairs. You know why, of course.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Aren’t you Conversos?” she asked.
“What’s that?” Katie asked.
The lady moved closer to us. “Girls, we found you after the accident. We didn’t know if you were Jewish or not. I’m so happy that I could help Jewish girls. Perhaps you’re from Amsterdam where it’s safe to be Jewish. Here, the Inquisition imposed severe penalties – even death – for any Converso who practices Judaism. Surely, you have heard that?”
“We’re from New York,” I said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No such place, dear. Head injury.” The lady shook her head. “I’m Elizabeth Dalar. My daughter Sabrina is about your age. After you daven, come upstairs to the kitchen. Sabrina wants to meet you.”
Her gown swished as she glided out of the room.
Katie and I stared at each other, and then I shrugged. “Do you want to use the siddur first?” I asked.
“No, you go first.”
I held it gingerly and began to speak to Hashem.
After davening, we ascended the winding staircase that led into the living room behind the wall. Then we headed toward the kitchen.
A girl who was a miniature version of the lady in the aqua dress ran toward us.
“Hi, I’m Sabrina. Do you want to come play ball with me in the courtyard? I heard you had an accident. How are you? I was so excited to hear about you. Madre told me all about you.”
She bounced a large rubber ball as she spoke. She wore a long, yellow gown with a white tunic over it. She had long, dark hair tied with a yellow satin ribbon, and she looked like she was my age. She was wiry and she moved quickly. “It gets so dull around here. My madre goes to sew at the royal palace. I’m home with a tutor and no girls my age around to play with. I hope you’ll stay. The tutor is not fun, but she teaches a lot.”
She ran ahead toward the courtyard.
We followed her through the kitchen. I glanced around. There was a lady bent over a large tub of water and another lady cooking over a hearth. There weren’t any sinks, and in the spot where the oven should be, there was a fireplace. “Where’s the oven?” I asked Sabrina.
“It’s in the building over there. You know large homes keep ovens in separate buildings.”
“Why?”
“To prevent a fire from burning down the house. Everyone knows that.”
Ovens in separate buildings? Candles instead of lights?
Outside, the grass was swaying in a delightful spring breeze. I glanced around. Something wasn’t right in the courtyard. What was it?
Sabrina ran down the center of the courtyard and then she tossed the ball to me.
Katie strode over to me and whispered in my ear. “Miri, the olive tree – the big one in the center. It’s gone!”
I stared at the center of the courtyard. There was no olive tree!
A knot of fear tightened my stomach. The kitchen was different. Our bedroom was different. What was going on? Was I walking in some sort of dream? How could that huge olive tree just disappear?
I gazed at the edges of the courtyard. There were tiny saplings where tall olive trees were supposed to be standing.
My heart pounded. My fear was reflected in Katie’s eyes.
To be continued…
Susie Garber is the author of 11 popular Jewish books, including her newly released historical fiction novel The Blizzard (Menucha 2026) and recently published novel Captured (Menucha 2025). She is also the current news editor of Binyan Magazine.
