“We mustn’t engage in rumors, Faustina. Gossip gets people killed in times like these.” Father’s tone was dismissive, but I frowned at them.

“Who are you talking about? Do we know someone who would do this?”

“Please leave it, Alina,” Truda said, nodding pointedly toward Emilia. I glanced at my “little sister.” She was watching me closely, and I suddenly felt embarrassed to be dismissed in front of her, yet again.

“I am so tired of you all treating me like a child!” I exclaimed. “You want me to pretend I am a fool, that I don’t even have eyes in my head. Does no one in this family trust me at all?”

“We trust you,” my mother said stiffly. “It is everyone else we don’t trust. And Alina—you are only seventeen years old. You have to accept that there are reasons for the secrets we keep from you. I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me for that.”

“I don’t keep secrets from you, big sister,” Emilia said hesitantly. Everyone looked at her, and she raised her chin. “I tell Alina everything because she lets me talk to her.”

“I know you do, babisu,” I said softly, and I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “And you know I love talking to you.” Emilia nodded, then she frowned at the rest of the adults at the table, as if they’d let us both down somehow. Truda changed the subject then and the conversation moved on, but long after our guests had left, I was still thinking about Mama’s comment. I’d turned it over and over in my mind during the night—thinking of all of the people we knew in the town and the surrounding farms. Some were easy to dismiss—people like Justyna’s father, Jan, who had made his hatred for the Jews clear. But beyond that? Everyone was desperate for food—almost everyone was desperately poor too—and gold could buy food on the black market. Despite Mateusz’s disgust, I could imagine virtually anyone we knew agreeing to hide Jews if there was good money to be made.

I followed Mama out to the well the next morning when she went to fetch water, and as soon as we were alone, I asked her directly.

“Who were you talking about last night? When you said people we knew were hiding Jews for money?”

“I knew you would ask me today,” Mama murmured.

“Well, I...” I paused, then I said in frustration, “Mama, you have to let me grow up. Even Emilia is growing up, but you and Father keep me locked away like an infant.”

“One day, when this war is over, you’ll look back and with the passing of time, these things that right now feel like unfair deceptions will seem like mercies,” Mama said, and her gaze grew distant. “It might not be much, but all we can offer you is to protect you when we can, and sometimes that means to relieve you of the heavy burden of secrets. One day you’ll be grateful that we kept you busy and kept your focus on survival. One day, daughter, all of this suffering will be contained in your memories, and you’ll be free.”

That seemed a dream too unlikely for me to waste energy hoping for it. I slumped even as she said it, and tears filled my eyes. I blinked them away, then whispered, “Do you really believe that?”

She sighed sadly.

“Alina, if I didn’t believe that, I couldn’t drag myself out of bed in the morning.”

* * *

Spring came again, but it was difficult to find any joy in the blooming of the wildflowers in the grasses around our fields. Mama and I again resumed our frantic schedule to prepare the new season’s crops, but one day when we were working in the field together, I saw Justyna approaching the boundary of her property. She waved to me hesitantly.

“I think your friend would like a chat,” Mama murmured.

“Can I go?” I asked. Mama nodded, and I scrambled to my feet and ran to greet her.

“Hello!” I said, excited at the prospect of a conversation with someone other than my family. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in months.”

“I know,” she said, dropping her gaze. “Father has kept me busy. I am sure it is the same for you.”

“It is,” I sighed, but then I noticed the purse of her lips. “Justyna, are you okay?”

“My aunt...my mother...” she started to say, then she inhaled and said in a rush, “I don’t exactly know what’s going on, but I think my aunt Nadia might know something about your Tomasz.”

My stomach dropped to my toes because I immediately assumed the worst.

“Oh no, Justyna...is it bad news?”

Justyna shook her head hastily, but then she shrugged.

“I don’t actually know. I just heard Father and Mama whispering. They were arguing—Father wants us to stay, but Mama wants to take me to go to her other sisters in Krakow. She said it’s too dangerous in the country these days. Father said something about Nadia, and then Mama definitely said ‘Tomasz Slaski.’ I didn’t hear much, but I heard that bit clear as a bell.”

“Did you ask them what they were talking about?” I whispered, through suddenly numb lips. Justyna nodded, then her gaze saddened.

“They wouldn’t tell me. Father got so angry when I asked, and Mama is very upset about something—she was crying so much last night. But you know my aunt Nadia, Alina. She is so kind...and she has suffered so much loss herself, I am sure she would be sympathetic to your situation. If you found a way to see her, I know she would tell you what she knows.”

Nadia’s house was just a few streets into Trzebinia, right on our side of town. I could run there, talk to her and still be home in under half an hour.

I turned back to look at the house and saw Mama’s eyes inevitably fixed on me.

“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you. I know your parents will never let you go to her,” Justyna said, her eyes following mine. I swallowed as I nodded. “I couldn’t not tell you, though. If Filipe...back before...well, if someone had news. Any news. I would want to know.”

Could I ask Truda to visit Nadia for me? I dismissed the idea immediately. She would never court danger, not in a million years, but even if I could convince her to do it, I’d never forgive myself if Nadia was tangled up in something dangerous and there were consequences for my sister and her family. Whatever news Nadia had of my Tomasz, I doubted she’d come across it without some risk.

“What are you going to do?” Justyna asked me.

I raised my chin, just a little.

“The only thing I can do.”

* * *

It was an unseasonably cool night, and I’d left my window open so my parents wouldn’t hear the squeal of the wooden frame moving when it came time for me to climb outside. I sat on my bed, fully dressed but hiding in a nest of blankets, dreading the coming moment when I’d have to leave the warmth. There was a full moon, but patches of clouds were floating past. As I stared out the window and waited, I watched the moonlight come and go.