She knew how helpless and dependent she’d been these past years —on Abba and his student and the German guides who’d helped them leave Cologne. On the Dutch people who’d fed and housed them with the other refugees here at Westerbork. On Ans and Eloise after she and Avi fled the Nazi roundups. And on Dr. Elzinga and his underground network who’d risked their lives to hide her and care for her. She hadn’t survived this long by her own strength and wits, but because of the courage and love of others. Miriam had tried to wall herself off from people, afraid to get too close, afraid of experiencing the blinding pain she’d felt after losing Avi and Elisheva. Trusting was a risk. Loving was a risk. Now she owed a debt to love in return. She made up her mind to return to the camp kitchen and resume her work duties. In a few hours or a few days, perhaps she and a group of fellow prisoners would band together and decide on a plan. But for now, everyone needed to eat. She was surprised to find that nearly all of the others had chosen to work as well.

Shortly before noon, as pots of soup simmered on the stove, they heard the unmistakable sound of heavy vehicles approaching. Everyone in the kitchen froze. The woman working alongside Miriam collapsed to the floor with a moan of despair. “They’re back; they’re back! Oh, why didn’t we run while we had the chance!”

Miriam tried to help her to her feet in spite of her own longing to run and hide. The others had all rushed to the door. “Come, let’s see if it is the Nazis before we panic,” Miriam said. “Maybe someone has come to rescue us.”

Before they reached the door, shouts of joy resounded outside. “It’s the Canadians! Canadian soldiers!”

The woman clung to Miriam, laughing and weeping at the same time. “We’re free! Really and truly free!” Miriam couldn’t comprehend it.

The prisoners swarmed the Canadian troops and their vehicles, applauding, cheering, begging for news. “Is the war over? Have the Allies defeated the Nazis?”

The Canadian commander stood on the fender of his vehicle, his hands raised to call for silence as an interpreter came forward. “The war isn’t over yet. Parts of the western provinces, the cities of Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and Den Haag, still haven’t been liberated. But the Nazis are on the run. It won’t be long until they’re finally defeated.” Miriam was afraid to believe it, afraid to hope. “Anyone who wants to leave this camp may certainly do so,” the commander continued. “But I recommend you wait here until all of the hostilities cease. After that, we’ll figure out how to get you back home.”

Home. To Leiden. To her family.