“It is too terrible to believe, I know,” Sara murmured.
“If the rumors are true, this will happen more and more,” Matylda said. “We will go to rescue children and find that those children are already gone. What happened today was a nightmare, but it is going to be a daily nightmare, and you are fooling yourself if you do not believe it will escalate. And who knows how long they will allow us to use our permits to come and go? Sooner or later, they will seal the ghetto off completely—it is a miracle we’ve had access for this long. Mark my words, every risk we do not take now will be a stain upon our conscience for the rest of our lives. We need bolder action.”
“What more can we do?” Sara asked unevenly. “There is so much to balance. We have exploited every excuse we can. Our team simply cannot make more trips past those checkpoints. It will arouse too much suspicion.”
“Do you agree with me that every child counts?” Matylda asked Sara, her voice low and steady.
“You know I do!” Sara exclaimed.
“Do you?” Matylda pressed, then her gaze shifted to me.
“She is too young.”
“Many of the couriers are even younger, and yet we rely on them every day.”
“This is different! Elz·bieta is...”
“Is what? Is not Jewish, so is not expendable?”
“How can you say that to me, after everything I’ve done?”
“It is one thing to risk your own life. I know that you would welcome death because it feels to you as though you have nothing left to live for. No, the greatest sacrifice for you would be to risk your friend. That’s why I am asking you—how much do you want to help the children in the ghetto? Because you allow her to sit here with your busywork when she could be making a real difference in the field.” Matylda raised her eyebrows at me. “Well, Elz·bieta?”
“I don’t understand what you want me to do,” I said uncertainly.
“The couriers are already in danger,” Sara blurted, pressing her palms down onto the desk and leaning forward, as if to convey the urgency of her argument. “Whether or not they are leading children through the sewer or sleeping in their beds in the ghetto, their fate is already sealed. It is different with Elz·bieta. She is a child, and she is already safe.”
“No one is safe in this country,” Matylda said dismissively.
“I’m not a child. I’m fourteen,” I started to protest, but my voice was weak and wavering. Sara waved her hand to silence me.
“I will not betray your parents by allowing you to join us in the field!”
“How noble of you,” Matylda said bitterly. “You value the opinion of this Catholic couple more than the lives of potentially dozens of Jewish children.”
“That is so unfair.”
“You want me to smuggle children through the sewer?” I asked. Wasn’t it exactly what I had wanted in the beginning? Now, the very thought of putting my life on the line for strangers left me feeling physically ill. I went weak with relief when Matylda shook her head.
“That would be a waste. You have more valuable skills that we could utilize. You are Catholic, no?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know your prayers?”
“Of course I do.”
“If you could spend a little time with each child, getting a head start on their Catholic lessons and practicing their Polish, perhaps we could shift at least a few more straight into foster homes to avoid the bottleneck in the convents.”
“But I would still go into the ghetto with you?” I said uncertainly. Matylda nodded.
“With Sara, I think.”
“But how?”
“My contact will issue you a permit. You will march right through the checkpoints. It is almost as safe for you as sitting at this desk.”
“Don’t lie to her, Matylda,” Sara said fiercely. “If you’re going to ask this of her, then at least tell her the truth.” I looked to Sara in confusion, and her gaze pleaded with me. “Walking through those checkpoints will be the most terrifying moments of your life, Elz·bieta. Every day brings new danger, especially now. And if our mission is ever discovered, you could be captured and tortured...even killed. I can’t ask you to do this.”
“Every other person who knows our real mission is contributing and active in the fight. Elz·bieta here discovered your secret and proved she can be trusted.”
“She is fourteen years old,” Sara said defensively. “Besides, the work with the soup kitchens is important, too.”
“Of course it is. But it is not urgent in the same way that thousands of children at risk of being murdered is urgent,” Matylda said fiercely. Both women fell silent, and the only sound in the room was Matylda’s ragged breathing. Her face was red, her eyes wild and her fists clenched against her thighs. She drew in another sharp breath, and then she said, “She could sit at the youth center, in the back room Andrzej uses for his meetings. You could accompany her in and out, but while you do your home visits, she could sit with children to help prepare them. Besides, could she not smuggle in just a handful of bread beneath her clothing that might keep a child going for a day or two more? Could we not fit her with one of your brassieres and have her smuggling more typhus vaccine in or, for God’s sake, cyanide pills?”
“Cyanide pills?” I repeated, feeling the color drain from my face. “Why would the Jews want cyanide pills?”
“Sometimes, the only mercy one can offer is a quiet death,” Matylda murmured. My stomach dropped as I considered this. My father had not died a quiet death. My brother had not died a quiet death. Would I have had the courage to help them achieve this, if I’d had the power? I pictured myself sneaking into the ghetto with Sara, my pockets stuffed with precious pills. My father and my brother would have been so proud.
“I’ll do it,” I announced.
“I knew you would,” Matylda said, and she patted my hand, pleased. She glanced at Sara. “I’ll organize the permit. Please find her some more suitable clothing to wear.”
Matylda closed the door behind her, leaving Sara and me alone at the desk. I glanced across a stack of paperwork and found her staring at me, her eyes filled with tears.
“To do this would be to betray your parents and your uncle. To do this would be to betray their trust in me.”
“What is the worse sin?” I asked her carefully. “Betraying their trust or allowing children to die?”
She pursed her lips, then shook her head in frustration.
“You will probably die if we do this. Do you understand that? To Matylda, it is a simple case of math because she has reduced the complex morality of what we do down to its most basic form. She would do anything to save more lives. There is no risk that is too great for her to take because she has nothing to lose. I am in the same boat—my family is already gone. I do this because when I am caught and when I am killed, there is no one left to grieve me. That is not the case with you! Even if you do survive, the things you would see inside that ghetto would haunt you for the rest of your life.”