Recap: Miri was hit by a tree branch in the courtyard. She finds herself lying in a bed. Things in the house look very different, and the doctor caring for her warns her not to mention anything Jewish. It’s all strange and scary.

 Sabrina ran all around throwing the ball. She kept us busy running to catch it. At one point, the ball flew over the stone wall. I ran outside to retrieve it. I looked both ways to avoid cars. A man was walking down the street with a donkey pulling a cart. Another man rode by on a horse. I walked down the block and gazed down cobblestone streets. I saw horses and donkeys and people walking. There was no sign of any cars or trucks – none!

I trudged back to the courtyard, holding the ball.

Sabrina and Katie were sitting on the grass talking to each other. I plunked down near them.

“Don’t people drive cars around here?” I asked.

Sabrina’s forehead creased. “What are cars?”

I made a driving motion. “Automobiles, trucks... you know, vehicles to get people where they want to go.”

“I don’t know what you mean. We have horses and carriages.”

“Cars?” she said, rolling the word on her tongue. “I never heard that word before. I’m so happy you came.” She leaned in and whispered in my ear, “It’s so special to have other Jewish girls to play with. Where did you say you’re from? Madre said you’re from Amsterdam.”

“We’re from New York,” I said.

“I never heard of that,” she said. “Maybe the head injury…”

“Look, I’m not crazy. We are from New York,” I said.

“What are you saying? There’s no such place as New York. Everyone knows that. You know what year it is, of course?” She was laughing. “Of course, you must know that it’s 1497 and you are from Amsterdam. When my tutor comes, she’ll straighten out your confusion and—”

I looked at Katie, and Katie looked at me.

I had this terrible sinking feeling inside. There had to be a way to explain we were from New York. Why was she saying it didn’t exist? And what did she mean by saying it was 1497? I needed her to explain. She must be joking or something.

“Sabrina, why are you saying it’s 1497?”

She laughed. “You had a blow to the head. That’s why you’re disoriented. We have to go back inside soon. Madre is leaving and I wanted to finish the game.” She jumped up, ran to the far end of the courtyard, and tossed the ball into the air.

I ran toward it, but Katie caught it first. She’s much better at sports than me, and right now I was so confused that I don’t think I could have caught anything.

After another ten minutes of Sabrina throwing and Katie catching all the balls, Sabrina motioned for us to follow her back inside.

“How do you know English?” Katie asked her.

“My father was a British naval captain. He was high up in the admiralty of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella.”

“So, you learned English from him?”

She nodded. “He spoke English to me.” She sighed. “He died two years ago in a big storm.”

“I’m sorry,” Katie said.

“I miss him terribly.” Sabrina had a faraway look in her eyes. “Madre cries a lot at night. For two years she has cried at night.” She started bouncing the ball. “Come into the kitchen and we’ll have some ale.”

We followed her into the kitchen.

“Joanna, please give us three mugs of ale,” she said to the lady who was busy cooking over the hearth. I gazed around the kitchen.

The lady pulled out a jug of some murky liquid and began pouring it into mugs.

“Where’s your fridge?” I asked.

“My what?” Sabrina asked. She handed me a mug.

I was thirsty. I started to recite the brachah, “Baruch—”

Sabrina put her finger on my lips and shook her head.

I whispered the rest under my breath. Katie did the same. The brew tasted like herbs. It had a strange, bitter taste that was not unpleasant.

Mrs. Dolar strode into the room. “Sabrina, Mrs. Cornwall is in the sitting room. She heard about the accident and our guests.” She nodded toward us. “Please come meet her.”

“Thank you, Joanna,” Sabrina said to the kitchen maid. Then she turned to us. “Let’s go outside for a minute; I forgot something.”

We followed her outside. She closed the door to the courtyard behind us. “I have to warn you. Mrs. Cornwall is an informer. She’s informed on many Conversos for doing Jewish practices. You must act like good Catholics. Don’t volunteer anything. If she asks where you’re from, just say Amsterdam and you’re here for the Easter holiday. It’s a Christian holiday. She’s very old-fashioned, so you must curtsy when you’re introduced to her.”

My stomach knotted. Conversos, informers! This was a very dangerous place for Jews. I’m the worst liar in the world; my face tends to give me away. I decided to hide behind Katie so the lady wouldn’t be able to study my face.

Sabrina led us into the living room. My heart was booming against my chest.

A lady with sharp dark eyes and a pointed nose sat primly on one of the seats. Her gray hair was pinned back by a cone-shaped hat. Her mouth formed a tight line. She reminded me of a hawk.

“These are our guests, Mrs. Cornwall,” Mrs. Dolar introduced us. Sabrina curtsied, and then Katie followed suit. I tried to imitate her. I’m not the most graceful person, but I tried to slowly imitate Katie’s movements.

“Where are you girls from?”

I inched behind Katie.

“We’re from Amsterdam,” Katie lied.

“Ah, well, you’re here for the Easter holiday. You’ll enjoy Madrid this time of year.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Katie said.

How did Katie say that so smoothly?

“Girls, you can go help Joanna with the trays.” Mrs. Dolar shooed us out of the room.

“Nice to see good Christian girls,” Mrs. Cornwall said. “I’ll look forward to seeing them in church.”

In church! There was no way I would set foot in a church. I had to get out of this dream – or whatever this was – and fast.

 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.