The Mighty
Chapter Two: Regret
“Miep, did you happen to catch the news tonight?” Maglor’s voice came echoing from the study.
“Yes,” she replied, “from
“They managed to get some news through?” Maglor interrupted, surprise betraying his relief that there were still some in the Resistance that had not been caught. “What do they say?”
“
“Miep, you have to believe they will get through,” Jan’s face now appeared from the doorway of the study where he was helping Maglor sort through the coupons they had received. “There is no use being so bitter about it.”
“I – ” she began, but Maglor interrupted.
“Come now, you two, I’m not going to sit through another argument about how it is all hopeless. Miep, what of the news from the Resistance?”
“Two more hiding places were found.”
The papers in the other room stopped rustling and a pen clattered to the floor.
“The three families and those who helped them were taken away.” Miep’s voice cracked. She had been holding herself together all afternoon and her restraint was wearing away.
Jan ran into the kitchen as she finished the sentence and held her as she sobbed quietly. Maglor sat for a moment, his head in his hands. Not more, he thought, how much more of this can we take? Is there no way to stop this evil?
He shook himself out of his daze and stood up. There would be time for brooding later. He left the study and found Miep and Jan in the kitchen. She was trying to regain control of herself and Jan was soothing her in soft tones when he entered. They looked up at him expectantly, but for once in his life, Maglor did not know what to say. Instead, he enveloped them both in his arms, trying to draw on their strength to staunch his weariness and despair.
*****
Anne awoke suddenly. Startled, she sat up and listened for any unusual noises. Hearing nothing but Fritz’s snores, she lay down and tried to figure out what had woken her. She had been dreaming about that strange man, but nothing about the dream seemed significantly different from her memories. Running through the scene in her mind, she could see him: a tall, sad figure in a black coat, raven hair blowing in the morning breeze. He was looking out into the Western canals and beyond with an expression of longing and regret etched deeply on his face. Regret. That was it. Anne opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t the dream that had awoken her, but rather the feelings it evoked. She had known regret for a long time now, and every time she tried to push it away, it came back stronger. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to will the feelings away by thinking about happy things, which only increased the torment. She did not fall asleep again that night.