had been in line at the post office that…
Chapter 40
Follow orders, do his time, get the hell home. That…
Chapter 41
Lane moved slowly through his day, aware that every face…
Chapter 42
Searchlights swept the grounds. Barbed wire winked from the nearest…
Chapter 43
TJ threw back another gulp of beer, avoiding the thief…
Chapter 44
At the main gate, surrounded by MPs, Maddie and Emma…
Chapter 45
They were on a secret, two-plane recon mission with a…
Part Five
Chapter 46
Lane didn’t dare touch her. The expression on her face…
Chapter 47
The rice was moving.
Chapter 48
In the barn, Maddie yelled through the wire mesh, “Throw…
Chapter 49
The only good Jap is a dead Jap.
Chapter 50
TJ stared out the open-air window, every nerve bundled.
Chapter 51
The blur of her surroundings gradually sharpened into walls, a…
Chapter 52
After an hour of Lane’s pleas over the loudspeaker, the…
Chapter 53
By day four, TJ chose talking as the activity that…
Chapter 54
The best way to handle her predicament, Maddie had decided,…
Chapter 55
By the light of the moon, Lane traced the image…
Chapter 56
Amazing how a single night can entirely change how you…
Chapter 57
Maddie tried to follow orders, but ultimately found it impossible.
Chapter 58
Lane clenched his garrison cap at his side. He’d never…
Chapter 59
“Let’s go over it again,” TJ said, crouched in the…
Part Six
Chapter 60
A single letter had changed everything.
Chapter 61
Eyes squeezed tight, Maddie waited for the signal. She could…
Chapter 62
Nine months had passed since the breakout, yet prisoners’ commentaries…
Chapter 63
One hundred thirty-nine American POWs—all murdered. Lane had tried to…
Chapter 64
Suzie’s piercing shriek sent Maddie racing toward the sound. She…
Chapter 65
The mission was running according to plan—so far. With ten…
Part Seven
Chapter 66
All day long, cars honked and neighbors cheered. Celebration crammed…
Chapter 67
This was the first place TJ had promised himself he’d…
Chapter 68
“Watch out!” Maddie cried.
Chapter 69
TJ pounded out his frustrations over the news. He snagged…
Chapter 70
“Bubba-skosh!” Suzie’s butchered version of the word helped relieve Maddie’s…
Chapter 71
After TJ left the rest home, where he’d reveled in…
Chapter 72
The impending ceremony made today the most appropriate for removing…
The Bridge Builder
Author’s Note
Asian-Fusion Recipes
A Reading Group Guide
Discussion Questions
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books by Kristina McMorris
PART ONE
Every leaf while on its tree sways in unison;
bears the same light and shadow,
is sustained by the same sap that will release it in blazing color.
It is that moment before falling we all live for,
to see ourselves for the first time,
to hear our name being called from the inside.
—Deanna Nikaido,
daughter of a Japanese American “evacuee”
November 1941
Los Angeles, California
At the sound of her brother’s voice, flutters of joy turned to panic in Maddie Kern. “Cripes,” she whispered, perched on her vanity seat. “What’s he doing home?”
Jo Allister, her closest girlfriend and trusted lookout, cracked open the bedroom door. She peeked into the hall as TJ hollered again from downstairs.
“Maddie! You here?”
It was six o’clock on a Friday. He should have been at his campus job all night. If he knew who was about to pick her up for a date …
She didn’t want to imagine what he would do.
Maddie scanned the room, seeking a solution amidst her tidy collection of belongings—framed family photos on the bureau, her posters of the New York Symphony, of Verdi’s Aida at the Philharmonic. But even her violin case, which she’d defended from years of dings and scratches, seemed to shake its head from the corner and say, Six months of sneaking around and you’re surprised this would happen?
Jo closed the door without a click and pressed her back against the knob. “Want me to keep him out?” Her pale lips angled with mischief. Despite the full look of her figure, thanks to her baggy hardware store uniform, she was no match for TJ’s strength. Only his stubbornness.
“My brother seeing me isn’t the problem,” Maddie reminded her. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand, and found cause for remaining calm. “Lane shouldn’t be here for another twelve minutes. If I can just—”
The faint sound of an engine drove through the thought and parked on her words. Had he shown up early? She raced to the window, where she swatted away her childhood drapes. She threw the pane upward and craned her neck. Around the abandoned remains of her father’s Ford, she made out a wedge of the street. No sign of Lane’s car. She still had time.
“Hey,