She’d been to Bolzano with her parents, years ago, on their way to a walking trip in the mountains. It had been a pretty place, almost comically quaint, with a backdrop of towering mountains that kept their snowy tops even in the summer. She’d thought, then, that it belonged in a fairy tale.

Now Nina sat on the bunk closest to the broken window, too tired to think of more questions, and unfolded her uniform. It was a plain sacklike dress, quite large enough to go around her twice, and made of a rough blue fabric that would undoubtedly feel dreadful against her skin. A yellow triangle was sewn to its left breast, and a large red X was painted across its back.

Resigned to wearing the awful thing, she started to unbutton her own dress, by now little more than a fetid rag, but the girl interrupted her.

“Don’t. Keep your clothes on underneath. You’re lucky they didn’t take them away.”

“But they smell awful,” Nina protested.

The girl shook her head. “Everything smells here. It doesn’t matter. Better to be warm.” Her voice was atonal, as if she were a robot rather than a person. As if the work of speaking was enough to exhaust her.

“Thank you.”

Of course the girl was right, not only about staying warm but also about the stench in the bunkhouse. The stables at home were a rose garden in comparison. Before long, she was sure, the odor of her soiled dress would be unnoticeable to her beleaguered senses.

“Get some rest while you can,” the girl added. “And don’t take them off.”

“What? My boots?” Nina asked, pausing in the act of unlacing them.

“If you do, they won’t be here when you wake up. Trust me.”

“All right. Thanks.”

It was strange to crawl into bed, even one as spartan as the straw-matted wooden bunk, while still fully dressed. She lay back, remembering her thin mattress at home with a bittersweet fondness, and pulled the filthy blanket atop her.

She was exhausted, cold, hungry, and achingly sad, but she was alive. She was strong and healthy, and for Lucia’s sake, as well as Nico’s memory, she would endure. She would survive.

SHE HAD ONLY just fallen asleep when the others returned from the latrine. No one said anything to her at first, but as they lined up in two rows along the central aisle another woman took pity on her.

“You’d better get up before the guard comes. It’s time for appell, and she’ll have a fit if she finds you lying down.”

Nina nodded, though it made her blackened eye throb unbearably, and somehow managed to drag herself from her bunk. The others made room for her in the line, and then they marched outside together.