The War that Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

Back at the station, patient Butter still stood tied to the porch rail. The
officer told me to go on home. “We’ll handle it from here, miss.”
I wanted to tell Susan, but I wasn’t sure how. I put it off so that I could think
about it more. We were halfway through dinner that evening when the police
knocked on the door.
It was my second officer, and another. “We need to speak with your
daughter, ma’am.”
I got up quickly. Susan looked stunned. Jamie looked delighted.
“We need you to help us locate the buried parcel,” my officer said. So I
went again in a squad car, this time all the way to the beach. I showed them
where I’d stood with Butter, watching, and I tried to show them where I
thought the man had landed with his boat. The tide was high now and
everything looked different.
“We’ll have to get the army to dig it up anyhow,” the other officer said.
“For all we know, the beach is mined.” He drove along the edge of the
barbed-wire fence. We got out near where I thought the man had gone
through, and walked up and down the road until we found a footprint. The
officer marked it with a piece of cloth tied to the fence, and then took me
home.
I paused before I got out of the car. “Will you let me know what happens to
the man?”
The officers shook their heads. “It’ll be a secret, miss.”
“Will you let me know if he really is a spy?”
They looked at each other, and nodded. “But you’re to stay quiet about it,”
one said.
I nodded. “Loose Lips Sink Ships,” I said. I went in to make my
explanations to Susan.
She was waiting for me on the purple sofa. She listened to the whole story.
Then she put her hands on either side of my face. She smiled at me, and she
said, “Oh, Ada. I am so proud.”
The very next afternoon, someone knocked on our door again. It was a police
officer—not the one who had helped me, but the fat one who’d sat at his desk
and thought I was making things up. “I need to apologize to your daughter,
ma’am,” he said. When he saw me, he swept off his hat and bowed. “I should