“Right, upstairs girls, so you can get ready for bed,” I say, following in their footsteps.
It’s 8:00 p.m.Now or never.
The girls are in their room, tucked in, unaware. I wanted to wish them both well as it pains me to leave them, but I can’t risk them thinking my words are a goodbye. They are. Gavriel is waiting by the attic’s stairwell, and I walk into Flora’s room and scoop her up into my arms, but the moment I do, she begins to cry. Not her fussy cry, but her broken-hearted one that cracks through her lungs. I rock her, hum in a whisper, and shush. Nothing works.
She must sense my panic. I’m sweating, breathing heavily. She must feel my heart galloping against her. Her cries grow louder, and she’s arching away from me, her arms reaching behind her—toward him.
Gavriel steps forward, his eyes never leaving mine as he cradles her into his arms. “I’ll take her.”
“Gav—” I utter, “you need your strength.”
But the second she’s settled in his arms, she stops. As if Gavriel is the only one who still makes sense to her within this horror.
I understand the feeling.
“Come on,” he says. “It’s past eight.”
I nod, swallowing against my fear. “You go first,” I whisper urgently. “Take her now, out the front door.”
Gavriel hesitates. “But you?—”
“I’ll follow. I need to make sure the girls stay in bed. I’ll cover your exit. If they get up and see us all leaving, they’ll scream. We’ll be done.” Gavriel and Flora have been through enough. I need to make sure they can make it out of here.
He doesn’t look like he’s going to agree with this plan, so I lower my voice and press the truth… “She’s quiet with you. She’ll be safe with you. You can get farther if no one spots you. Just don’t stop. Don’t look back.”
Gavriel studies me, his eyes speaking a million different thoughts all at once. But then he nods, just slightly.
He disappears down the stairwell and my limbs begin to tremble, but I force myself to turn back for Isla and Marlene’s bedroom to make sure they’re in bed and stay in bed while Gavriel makes his way across the front lawn with Flora.
They’re not in bed. They’re standing at the window. “Girls, you should be in bed,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. I hurry to their sides to escort them away from the window before it’s too late.
The moment I wrap my arms around their shoulders and tug them away from the window, Isla shrieks.
“He’s taking her! The Jew has Flora!” her voice slices through the air and there’s no saying how far her words will carry.
FORTY-FIVE
GAVRIEL
I should have waited for her. Where is she? I must keep moving. Her plan was to meet at the first wooded opening on the path back to Auschwitz. I know she was trying to protect me, but she might be the one who needs to be protected and I’m out here with a baby I’ve now stolen.
As soon as we make it to the border of the wooded path, I spin around to watch the front door, waiting for it to fly open. But it doesn’t.
“Whatever you do—keep running. Do not stop and come back for me. I’ll be fine,” she said. I agreed. Why would I agree? It’s not fine.
“Ma!” Flora cries out.
Oh God. “No, no, darling. I know you’re confused,” I say, breathlessly. “We’re going to try and find your real mama, as soon as possible.” If ever possible, I should say. If the war ever ends. If people are set free from the prisons. If, if, if. Guilt eats at me as I realize I shouldn’t offer her this hope, even if she doesn’t understand what I’m saying. I can’t imagine her mother is still alive in Auschwitz.
Maybe we’ll witness a miracle someday. Just for her.
God, please spare this innocent little girl.
I hold Flora so tightly within my arms, praying I don’t trip on a root. I can’t see a thing at this hour and there’s no kapo with a light, thankfully, but at the same time—what if I can’t find the opening within the trees?
What if I can’t breathe? Why does everything in my body feel like it’s on fire?
God, please, let me get out of here. Please.
