“Get the hell out of the road, lady,” he shouted. “Do you want to get killed or something?”

Quaking inside, Adeline hurried out of the way, and the truck went past, the driver shaking his head at her stupidity.

More lost than she’d ever been and feeling like the weight of the world was now centered between her shoulder blades, Adeline started back through the center of Lodz, past several of the black-market food shops that had turned her down. The snow had stopped falling but still swirled on a stiffening wind. Overhead, the gray clouds were thinning and in places were streaked with pale rose strings that seemed to curve and laze as the late-day sun fought for control of the winter sky.

Adeline ignored the empty pit in her stomach as she neared the far end of the market area, consumed by a whirlwind of questions. How will I find a ride south with no money before darkness falls? How will I tell Emil and the boys that I have nothing for them? How can I possibly go—?

A woman with her coat sleeve raised to block the swirling snow hurried out of the first shop Adeline had gone into earlier. She ran right into Adeline and sent them both sprawling in the street.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman said in German, scrambling around on her hands and knees to help Adeline up and then to retrieve the bag she’d dropped. “I didn’t see you.”

“It was my fault,” Adeline said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and—”

The woman raised her head to face Adeline. There was instant confusion on both their parts as they struggled to place each other, in the snow, years later, more than twelve hundred kilometers from their last chance meeting. But then they did recognize each other, and they were astonished.

“Adeline?” Esther said. “Is that really you?”

Nodding and bursting into tears, Adeline threw her arms around Mrs. Kantor’s friend. “You were sent to me. I had no one else to turn to, and you were sent to me.”

Twenty minutes later, Adeline was in Esther’s large, nicely appointed flat on the fourth floor of a beautiful building, sitting in front of a stove well-hopped with coal and burning fiercely. On their walk and despite her hunger, Adeline had wanted to know how Mrs. Kantor’s friend had gotten from Pervomaisk, Ukraine, to Lodz, Poland, but Esther had reminded Adeline in a whisper that her name was Ilse and that she was to stay quiet until they reached her home.

Now, as Esther boiled water for tea and got out fresh bread and two cold cooked sausages, she explained that with the forged identity documents Adeline had helped her secure, Esther received a slot on one of the first protected treks heading west.

“Which is why you have such a nice home?”

“Among other things,” Esther said, setting the hot tea before her. “I hate this place, really. In some ways, it’s a prison of memories that are not my own.”

It was a cryptic thing to say, but Adeline understood. “Other Jews lived here before you.”

Esther cocked her head in reappraisal. “Yes. How did you know that?”

“It is the same where we live. I’m wearing their clothes.”

“So am I,” she replied, and then, as she watched Adeline eat, Esther described coming to Lodz when the ghetto still housed seventy thousand Jews. She would walk by there at times, hear the Jews speaking Yiddish, and want to go to them.

“But I didn’t dare,” she said, gazing off, haunted more than sad. “Earlier this year, as more refugee treks started to leave the East, the Nazis began to empty the Lodz ghetto. Tens of thousands of them were put on trains in August. They’re all gone now.”

Tears dripped down her cheeks. “I’ve lived in their clothes and their homes, torn apart and guilty at first because I knew what became of them, and I kept wondering why I had been saved and not them. But then I saw it differently, defiantly, you know? I had fooled them, the Nazis. I was a Jew; I am a Jew living right beneath their . . .”

She laughed, dropped her head, and shook it.

Tens of thousands? Adeline thought. “You’re sure they’re all dead?”

“They haven’t come back,” Esther said. “Do you want more to eat before you go?”

Adeline declined and then got out the wedding rings. “I know they’re not much, but could you buy them for Reichsmarks or gold? Then I can bring food back to my family. They’re all sick and hungry and . . .”

Esther pushed her hand back, shook her head. “I can’t take those, and I won’t.”

With that, she got up and left the room. Adeline felt horrid; she’d offended or imposed upon the woman somehow.

Esther returned with a wad of Reichsmarks and handed them to Adeline. “This is a debt I’m glad to repay. That should carry you for a while.”

Adeline stared at the cash, dumbfounded. She had never held that much money in her life. “I can’t take this. It’s too much. What will you do?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I have more, and gold, too. I’d spend that money sooner than later if I were you. From what I’ve heard, the Allies will soon break through the western lines in France. Within weeks, they’ll be in Berlin, and Reichsmarks might become useless. You should go now. The black-market stores close at six o’clock, and I have a visitor coming. If you can’t find a way south tonight, Adeline, you are more than welcome to return around seven thirty, spend the night with me, and go home in the morning.”

“Oh,” Adeline said, still feeling weak despite the food and looking regretfully at the fire but getting up. “Thank you. Maybe I will. If that’s okay?”

“It’s more than okay. Buy your family food, and I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

Feeling far better than she had when Esther ran into her, Adeline put her coat back on and her scarf and mittens and left with her empty bag over her shoulder. The flat adjoined an open stairwell. Adeline climbed down the first flight, noticing the echoes her footsteps made, when an older German officer hurried up the stairs and past her. As she descended the second flight of stairs, she heard three sharp raps on a door above her. Adeline paused a moment, heard a door open, and swore she heard him say, “Guten Abend, Ilse-Sch?tzchen.”

The door shut. Adeline hurried down the last stairs and out into the bitter cold, thinking, Who am I to judge how Esther manages to survive when she is one of the targets of a war?

She returned to the first shop of the day and began grabbing bulk items off the shelf and putting them on the counter—flour, sugar, salt, yeast, dried sausage, fresh sausage, dried eggs, dried milk, three bars of chocolate—until the clerk went back and returned with the shopkeeper who’d told her the rings were worthless.

“I hope you have Reichsmarks or gold,” he said, eyeing her load. “And a lot.”

“Reichsmarks,” she said. “And I have a lot.”

“Yeah?” the shopkeeper said skeptically. “Where’d you get them?”

“The other side of town,” she said, raising her chin. “I found a merchant there who knows the value of fine jewelry. He called our rings ‘priceless’ and gave me what I asked for them.”

With that, she pulled out the wad of bills, paused to let the clerk and shopkeeper gape a little, and then said, “How much for it all?”

Feeling more than a little guilty that she was about to enjoy another meal and sleep in a warm, cozy place while her family suffered, Adeline knocked on Esther’s door at half past seven.

A few moments later, Esther opened it warily, but then saw Adeline and smiled.

“I’m glad you came back,” she said with a slight slur as she opened the door. She was in her robe. “The roads must be horrible and—”

Esther laughed, clapped and pointed at the two bulging bags Adeline carried.

“You bought out the store!”

“Thanks to you,” Adeline said. “You’ve saved us.”

She went in, set her bags down, and hugged Esther as she was about to light a cigarette.

“Oh dear,” she said, hugging Adeline back. “And you saved me, and we all save ourselves every day, somehow. That’s why we’re survivors, Adeline. That’s why we’re still here. Now, go over by the fire and get warm again.”

Adeline let her go, felt a little awkward, but smiled and went over by the stove.

Esther lit her cigarette, took a drag, and plucked an empty wine bottle off the table before disappearing into the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with another bottle of wine, cheese, and more bread and dried sausage.

“I’m going to feed you at least twice more before you go,” she said. “That way, you’ll be strong enough to care for Emil and your precious boys.”

After Adeline had eaten her fill and drunk two glasses of wine, she told Esther how Emil wanted them to run for the Allied lines when the time was right.

“I think that time is coming sooner than later,” Esther said. “I have it on high authority that the Soviets are forty kilometers from Warsaw right now. I have one bag packed and all my gold sewn into the lining of my coat.”

“And that’s what you’re going to try to do? Get to the Allied side?”

“I’ve lived under Stalin once,” she said. “I won’t do it twice.”