“You know that, to the Germans, there is no difference.”
“It doesn’t matter to me anyway. This is my home, and he will stay here.”
“And if you are caught? If he is caught?”
“If I am caught for this small thing, I will just be relieved I haven’t been caught for everything else I am mixed up in.”
“I still can’t believe you took her into that place,” Piotr said suddenly, abruptly.
“This again? You know I had no idea about her papers. You didn’t tell me.”
“You didn’t tell me you were sneaking into the bloody ghetto and taking her with you!”
“It is so fascinating to me that you have taken that child into your heart in such a generous way with no benefit to yourself, and yet the very idea of me doing the same for Roman is driving you crazy.”
There was a stiff silence, then Piotr muttered, “As soon as they came here, I loved her. That’s why I’m protective of her. I always wanted children and regretted that fatherhood had never happened for me. God has given me a second chance to know what it feels like to love someone like that. That’s exactly why I’m so frustrated with you for taking these risks with her life.”
“You take risks every day,” Sara scoffed.
“That is my business. It’s how I am earning money to support them all.”
“Piotr, we both know that you could wind up your business, as you call it, here and take them back to Lodz tomorrow, and you could all still live comfortably.”
“It’s not a crime to make money.”
“You chastise me for taking risks, even while you exploit the vulnerable!”
“There is money to be made in this war, Sara,” he said impatiently. The whole conversation had the tone of one they had thrashed out a thousand times, a conversation they both sounded exhausted by. “I am saving a nest egg for us so that when it’s all over, we can have a good life.”
Sara groaned in frustration.
“I’ve told you I won’t marry you. Not while you’re mixed up in this other business.”
“You won’t marry me because you are stubborn and independent.” Piotr’s tone softened as he tried to cajole her, but Sara wasn’t having it.
“No,” she said abruptly. “I won’t marry you because my first husband was a good man—a man with compassion and empathy and values. To tie myself to a man like you would dishonor his memory. Get out. Get out!”
I heard the door slam and then the slide and click of the door locking. Sara’s footsteps were heavy as she crossed the apartment to her room, and then I heard her door close, too.
* * *
“What does your uncle do for work?” I asked Elz·bieta the next day. I was finally making consistent strides with my health and had graduated to spending my days downstairs in Sara’s apartment. I was relieved about this. I’d been so desperate for company that I hadn’t mentioned it to Elz·bieta, but it didn’t seem right to be lying in my bed, talking to the prettiest girl I knew for hours on end.
“He and my father both inherited textile factories from their father. Uncle Piotr’s factory is in Lodz, and he has a manager who is running it for him because he came to Warsaw to start some new kind of business. I’m not really clear on the details—he’s just told me he’s a broker, whatever that means. He also seems to be able to get his hands on anything, like your new papers,” Elz·bieta said easily.
“It’s a legitimate business?” I asked her hesitantly.
“Legitimate?” she said and frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“He does sometimes dip into the black market. Everyone does.”
“I know. But he’s not... I mean his business isn’t entirely the black market. Right?”
Her eyebrows shot up. She blinked, then frowned again.
“I don’t think so. But...” She cleared her throat. “I guess that would explain a few things. Sara has hinted to me that she cares for him, but their values don’t exactly line up. I thought she was just obsessed with her work, maybe reluctant to tell him about what she was really doing.” She shrugged, seemingly at ease again. “Well, even if he does run his business on the black market, I’m sure it’s helping people. He certainly helped you with your papers, right?”
“And...yours?” I said. Elz·bieta’s eyebrows knit.
“What?”
“I heard Sara arguing with him. She mentioned something about your papers, too.”
Elz·bieta looked at the coffee table between us, then swallowed.
“Please don’t ask me. I promised my parents I wouldn’t tell you. I’ve already broken so many promises to them. I need to keep one.”
I was stung by this. I thought Truda and Mateusz liked me. Even so, I forced a smile and a nod.
“We all have our secrets in war, don’t we?” I said, as lightly as I could.
“Isn’t that the truth?” she said with a sigh.
A new thought struck me, and I questioned her urgently. “Just tell me—are you in danger?”
She shrugged and gave me a half smile.
“Not nearly as much as you are.”
But I could see that she really wasn’t ready to talk to me about whatever secrets she was keeping, and so, reluctantly, I let the matter drop.
“Okay,” I said quietly. “I won’t ask you again.”
“Thank you.”
I scanned my gaze over her delicate features, those sparkling green eyes and that golden hair I wanted so badly to touch one day. I thought about how it would feel to lift my hand to reach for her, to take some of those wavy strands and rub them between my fingers. Her hair looked soft, and sometimes when she breezed past me, I’d catch a hint of her scent on the air. She was my closest friend, wriggling her way to an emotional intimacy with me in a way that not even Chaim had ever done. But more than that, she was a distraction and an escape.
When I was alone, sometimes I became lost in my thoughts—in the swirling violence of everything I’d seen and done and in the reality that my work was not yet done. My body was forcing me to rest, but once it recovered, I had to find a way to get back to the fight.
But when I was alone with Elz·bieta, I often found myself lost in different kinds of thoughts: of how good it felt to talk to her, to grow closer to her. Of how easy our friendship was, and a sense of wonder that while I was focused on her, I often slipped into an accidental kind of peace. I was most confused about that. I had so much left to do in that war, and I knew I was likely to lose my life in battle.