624
1941
From her front door, Sugar watched the Japanese loading children onto the boats all day in Old Anqing harbor. There was nothing she could do but cry.
“Where are you taking the children?” Sugar shouted at the Japanese soldier positioned outside her door, startling him from his snooze.
“Pack,” he barked, holding his index finger in her face. “You pack. One suitcase.”
“Three people, three suitcases!” Sugar scolded.
“One suitcase,” he said, waving toward the top of the house. “One!”
Sugar closed the door and ran to get David’s quilt. She put it in the secret compartment of the suitcase.