As soon as Johnny left, Kate sensed a change in Lidka. She was more relaxed, like a distasteful task had just been removed from her. It annoyed Kate and made her even more suspicious.
“I have to buy our tickets,” she said, heading for the counter.
“I thought Mr. De Luca did that already.”
“He could only buy us tickets so far. Now I must purchase more.” To the clerk, she asked for two tickets to Krakow.
“I thought we were going to Katowice.”
“You must have misunderstood. It is Krakow,” Lidka said with her quirky smile. “You will like this city. It is very beautiful as it not get destroyed like Warsaw. There are many old buildings and statues if you like to see them.”
Kate clenched her hands. She was sure Lidka had said Katowice. She was changing the location from what she’d told the De Lucas. “We should let everyone know.”
Lidka waved her off. “There is no time.” She grabbed the tickets and marched to the platform.
Kate hung back, looking for the telegraph window. She could be quick.
“Now. We must board,” Lidka said, pointing to the line of people getting on the train.
With one last glance, Kate hustled to keep up with Lidka. She’d have to send the telegram when they got to Krakow.
Once aboard their final train, Lidka gave a big sigh. “This is a good adventure for you, nie?” she said. She leaned back and jutted her feet up on the torn seat.
Kate forced a smile. It was a good adventure until about an hour ago. She’d left New York traveling first-class aboard the Queen Mary with two princesses and a boyfriend, her heart filled with hope. Contrast that with her predicament now: on a cramped train headed into a communist nation with a girl she’d only known for a few days and a growing fear in the pit of her stomach. How quickly life can change.
“Your boyfriend will be fine, if that is what bothers you. Tell me about America. Are the streets paved in gold?”
Kate couldn’t tell if Lidka was joking or not. “I live in a small apartment in the city with my mom. She works for Harmon-Craig department store, and when I’m not in school I work there, too, helping set up the displays in the windows.”
“This job you like?”
Again, Lidka was hard to read, since everything she said came with an edge. “I love it. It’s fun to set a scene. My boss is one of the best, so I learn something new with every display.” She pointed to her bag. “The camera is his. I’m trying to take pictures for him that could inspire unique displays.” She looked out the window at the world passing by. New York was so far away now. Mother would be working extra hours to fill in the loneliness—hopefully working and not dating. Josie might be going to the movies with that boy she liked.
“My mom took me to Poland when I was a little girl, though I don’t remember it.” Kate laid her head back. “I should send a telegram to my mother. Let her know I’ve made it to Poland.” And she could also send telegrams to the Kolodenkos and to her brother. The more people who knew the change of plans, the better.
Lidka closed her eyes. “If we have time.” She yawned and let her head fall to the side in relaxation.
Oh, we will make time. Even if I have to sit on the ground and refuse to move, I am sending a telegram.
When they entered the outskirts of Krakow, the train began to slow down. Lidka woke, stretching her arms up high. “Did you sleep?” she asked Kate.
“No. I watched the window.” And imagined every terrible way this trip could go wrong. Lidka was going home, but Kate was heading into the unknown. Both the Burgosov thug and Uncle Adalbert had warned her about Malwinka, but the Kolodenkos and Lidka showed no sign of fear. Who was right?
“You will sleep on your return trip. Is the same scenery.”
At least she is saying I’ll have a return trip. When it was their turn to disembark, Kate reminded Lidka about the telegram.
“We can send one later, when you have something to say.”
Kate crossed her arms. “They’ll worry if they don’t hear from us.”
“Fine, but we must hurry.” She looked at the darkening skies. “We do not want to be caught in the rain.”
After locating the telegraph office, Kate composed a note to the De Lucas to let them know of the changes.
Lidka snatched the piece of paper and crumpled it up. “Too long. I write them.”
Kate tried to grab the note back, but Lidka tossed it into the trash.
“They need to know where we are,” Kate said.
“I tell them. Use fewer words and save money.” Lidka wrote: 
. “See? This is all you need.” She marched up to the counter.
Frustrated, Kate pulled out another piece of paper. Lidka returned to the table.
“You didn’t say anything about Johnny or that we’re in Krakow,” Kate said.
“Does he not know how to send his own telegram?”
“That’s not the point.” Although now Kate felt foolish. Of course Johnny would let everyone know he was going on to Germany. “We still need to tell them we are in Krakow.”
“Fine. I add word ‘Krakow.’” She wrote the word on her message. “Can I send now?”
“Thank you,” Kate said, relieved. Perhaps her suspicions of Lidka were unfounded. The girl was abrupt and efficient, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was out to cause trouble.
When they exited the station, Lidka stopped short. “Oh,” she said, her eyes fixed on a black car waiting at the curb. “Malwinka knows we are here.”
A burly gentleman dressed in a suit stood guard over the fancy car. People were giving him a wide berth, but the car was attracting a lot of attention.
Kate’s stomach flipped. “Is she in the car?”
Lidka snorted. “She will be at her castle.”
“She lives in a castle?”
“Nie. She would like to. It is fancy house. Or at least, it used to be before the war. Their belongings were stolen, too. She has tracked down some, but many favorites are missing.”
Kate’s stomach clenched. She hoped the shoes were safe.
Without smiling, the man opened the back door and motioned to the girls.
“Gustaw,” Lidka said with a nod.
Kate followed Lidka into the car. After the uncomfortable seats in the train, the plush interior was a treat, though intimidating. If Malwinka wanted to put Kate on edge with this welcome, it worked.
The house they drove up to was on the outskirts of the city, and it was large. Almost as large as the Italian villa. It was three stories tall and looked like it received no damage at all in the war. The colors were bright, like they had been freshly painted. Kate could feel Lidka’s stare, but she refused to acknowledge her.
The driver parked, then opened the car door for them. He walked them to the front of the house and opened that door as well. No words were exchanged, and Kate felt like she was in a gangster movie from the days of Prohibition and Al Capone.
The entryway was tiled with marble, and an oversize oil painting of a woman holding a cat hung from the central wall. The house was silent, like it was afraid to breathe. Kate expected there to be a butler or someone to escort them through the house, but the hall was empty and Lidka marched straight in to the first room and sat on a spindly-legged chair.
Kate followed suit, sitting on the edge of her seat and trying not to faint. Traditional lace curtains framed each window, and the cheery fireplace made for a room far more cozier than she expected to find in the home of the notorious stepsister line.
They waited for ten minutes, listening to the ticking cuckoo clock. While Lidka first sat comfortably settled in her chair, minutes into the wait, she looked as nervous as Kate felt.
“That picture in there? With the cat? Malwinka hates it. She keeps it to remind her that her favorite painting is missing, and to show anyone who comes into house that she has nothing of value for them to take.”
Finally, they heard movement in the hall, and Lidka jumped out of her chair. Kate stood with her, wringing her hands.
A petite middle-aged woman in a flowered shift dress and solid high heels entered the room. A taller, younger woman wearing a maid’s uniform and holding a tea set followed her.
Nothing unusual stood out about Malwinka. Kate may have been expecting some outward indicator to let her know if she was in danger or not, but there was nothing. Malwinka was plain in every way except the manner in which she carried herself. She held the posture of someone putting on airs. No, that wasn’t it. She didn’t seem false at all. She handled herself with the same grace as Princess Kolodenko.
Lidka rushed forward and awkwardly kissed Malwinka on one cheek, then the other, and back again. They spoke hushed words in Polish before Lidka motioned to Kate and introduced her.
Malwinka spoke in Polish, and Kate continued to pretend that she knew very little, waiting for Lidka to translate.
“She says, ‘She is pleased to meet the new Keeper.’”
As much as she tried, Kate couldn’t keep the surprise off her face. She didn’t expect Malwinka to be so forthright, and now it was confirmed that Lidka knew more than she was letting on. Kate felt foolish for thinking she was keeping anything a secret when they all seemed to be one step ahead of her.
Lidka explained, “There is no other explanation for how you, an American and so far removed from our world, would know about Kopciuszek. I am closer and I only found out recently. You must be Keeper. The Kolodenkos speak so carefully. Here you can speak plainly.”
“Then she knows why I am here. Can you ask her if she has the shoes?”
Malwinka answered, followed quickly by Lidka’s translation. “Tea first.”
Kate’s stomach was filled with butterflies. She didn’t know if she could eat anything on the tray the maid brought out, but she took a sampling of cheese and black rye bread along with her tea.
While they made small talk, Kate sensed Malwinka sizing her up. The woman had keen eyes that focused in on Kate’s amber necklace. Self-consciously, Kate tucked it under her blouse.
Malwinka smiled at Kate’s discomfiture.
Once the tea dishes were removed, Malwinka’s look grew serious and she spoke.
Lidka translated what Kate had already understood. “During the war, we buried the shoes to keep them safe. When people will steal your last spoon, you take care with your treasures. You will see one shoe now.”
Malwinka snapped her fingers. The maid scurried over with a wooden shoe box, and after receiving a cool look, retreated to the wall.
With a dramatic flare, Malwinka lifted the hinge.
Collectively, everyone in the room leaned in for a closer look. Even cool Lidka rose off her seat to see the shoe. It was a single glass slipper nestled in a bed of blue silk.
Kate stood so she could get closer.
The diamonds sparkled the way ripples on a lake reflect the sun. Clear diamonds. Not blue. It was hard for Kate to hide her disappointment. All this time she had thought Princess Kolodenko had been wrong about the color of the shoes. She was sure there was a connection to her dad with the blue diamond. Now what are the blue diamonds?
“Only one?” she asked in English, holding up a single finger.
Malwinka spoke and Lidka translated. “She says you only need one. And she would like to know what you think the shoe will do.”
“I was hoping she could tell me.”
Lidka translated. “Malwinka’s family has had them for years, but the shoes have never done anything for them. They tested out their powers to reunite loved ones, but nothing has ever worked. They tried wearing them and hoping for a pull toward the missing person. They tried one person hiding with one shoe, and another trying to use the other to find it. Nothing. She would like to hear your theories on it, and if you have a good one, will let you test it out to see if you can find your papa.”
Kate could feel her necklace warming in response to the shoe. It was authentic; they weren’t trying to trick her. But there had to be a catch somewhere. It couldn’t be this easy. “I was going to try those very things myself. What if it only works when someone is truly missing? In their tests, the other person was merely hiding, not truly separated. And if I know the story correctly, Kopciuszek and the prince not only were separated but were being kept apart.”
Malwinka gestured for Kate to take the shoe.
Kate’s initial disappointment had given way to renewed awe that she was looking at the famous glass slipper. Without hesitation, she reached out. The diamond shoe was cold to the touch. Impersonal. She thought it would feel more welcoming. She slipped out of her own shoe and put on Cinderella’s glass slipper. Everyone held a breath, eyes fixed.
It was too small.
She waited with her toes tucked in as far as they would go, straining to feel any sort of twinge of magic. Any hint on which direction she should go. A feeling of where her dad was.
It could show up in the form of a dream tonight, the way the dress first invaded her thoughts. But there was always the fear—which she forced herself to pass over quickly—that the shoes only worked to find people who were alive.
She felt her face flush. They were all staring at her so intently but nothing was happening. She gave a nervous laugh and there was a release in the room. Lidka and Malwinka both let out a breath, and then Malwinka began speaking.
“We are to stay here and see what happens. You may keep the shoe with you to see what you can learn,” Lidka translated.