Hannelore Wolfe entered a hotel transformed by overt symbols of antagonism: swastikas appeared everywhere, including a hastily painted, still-wet emblem on the ballroom floor, which guests and staff connected to patriotic blackout candle centerpieces stamped with “Remember Pearl Harbor” and appeals to buy defense stamps. Hannelore understood both as opposing acts of war finally made visible on the last day before departure.

The Avallon’s routines had already ceased—no classes, no Swiss meetings, no posted films—and staff moved in wary silence. A porter, unafraid of consequence now that the diplomats were leaving, urinated into a German suitcase and met Hannelore’s gaze without apology. The atmosphere felt electric and threatening to Hannelore, who sensed danger and thought of running, though she believed she could not escape returning to Germany and sterilization.

In a hallway, Hannelore observed Erich von Limburg-Stirum speaking intently with waiter Sebastian Hepp in German about making a promise, with Sebastian distracted and not acknowledging her. Uneasy, she found her father, Friedrich Wolfe, and Lothar in the dim, nearly closed bar, with Sandy Gilfoyle left facing a wall and Citizen the dog nearby. Friedrich asked Hannelore to sing her memorized alphanumeric “song,” and while she recited it, she overheard him tell Lothar that he alone knew how to decode it and that Hannelore now held the entire list since embassy paperwork was gone—information shared in case he “vanished” after arrival in Germany.

Sabine Wolfe interrupted, told Hannelore to stop singing, and ordered Friedrich to check on their luggage and a gun being retrieved from the basement. After sending the men away, Sabine steadied herself and then allowed State Department agent Benjamin Pennybacker to speak privately with her, instructing Hannelore to sit and draw.

Pennybacker urged Sabine to share anything about Friedrich’s work that might allow the U.S. government to keep the family, praising Hannelore’s unusual observational talents. Sabine coldly refused to betray her husband, stressing her focus on protecting her child and questioning the propriety of the request to a member of a diplomatic legation. Hannelore silently observed, recalling Pennybacker’s habits and gentle rapport with Citizen, and sketched his crumpled mouth on her napkin.

Shifting tactics, Sabine asked if Hannelore could remain with Pennybacker for a few months. He admitted he had agonized over the idea but could not keep Hannelore off the exchange train, as doing so would be an act of war; he would continue trying to secure relief as the train departed New Jersey. As discordant noises rose elsewhere in the hotel, Sabine concluded that she was being forced to choose between husband and child, and Pennybacker replied that it was Germany making that choice. Hannelore trembled, imagining water pouring through the Avallon’s windows, as the finality of their departure became undeniable.