"Freedom of religion," whispered Grandfather, "means freedom from religion."
"Hush, Papa! You don't want to be heard."
"Now, Mother, we're safe in this shelter. I've made sure of it."
Grandmother still worried, but she went to the pantry to pull together dinner. The cans and pots hitting the counter too hard meant she was angry. At the time, I thought it was because she thought Grandfather was careless, which he never was, but now I know she was scared for me and for my brother Matthew, who was a year younger. She was afraid we'd repeat what Grandfather told us and get us all killed. We were only eight and nine, but we knew the stakes, and so did Grandfather.
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