Gasping, I released him, anticipating the consequences of my brazenness. Instead of a blow, I noticed the officer extending a hand toward me before hesitating and withdrawing it. I’d already been far too daring, but there was no turning back now. I lifted my eyes to his and found they held something I hadn’t seen in a long time—pity. My voice fell to a quiver.

“Please, I’ll do anything. Please help me.”

He chewed on his lip and grappled with his decision. At last he gestured for me to accompany him. The officer told his companions he needed me to stay to finish a few things, so he’d escort me to my block later. They seemed satisfied with the excuse. Once the block was empty, he led me to an interrogation room. He cast a furtive glance down the hall, ushered me inside, and closed the door behind us.

“What’s your name?” he asked as he sat across from me.

What an unusual query, considering my prisoner number was on my uniform, easy enough for him to see. I waited for him to correct himself, but he didn’t. He was genuinely asking for my name, my real name, and the realization was so baffling that I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I enunciated each syllable, listening as my name rolled off my tongue, so familiar, yet so rare and precious to me now.

“Well, if I’m calling you Maria, you can call me Oskar,” he said. “Tell me about your family.”

“My father was tall, and he had light brown hair and a crippled leg, and my mother and siblings were blond. They spoke perfect German. Zofia was nine, and she was the only one with curly hair, and Karol was four. My parents were Aleksander and Natalia, and the surname was Florkowski. Like I said, it was May of 1941, and I saw you near the courtyard when I found them, so I was hoping you’d seen something.”

He stayed silent, his expression unreadable; then he nodded. “There was a family around that time which matched your description. They stood out to me because they were together in the men’s washroom, and I’d never seen females there. Someone said the woman had asked if they could stay together. Her husband couldn’t walk on his own.”

I blinked to clear my blurry vision. Of course my parents had found a way to ensure they stayed together.

“Fritzsch came into the washroom, but he didn’t look surprised to see the woman and children there. Maybe he was the one who permitted them to stay together, I’m not sure. Once they’d undressed, he was eyeing the woman—” Oskar broke off, cheeks flushed, and cleared his throat. “I happened to be standing close to the family, and I was intrigued by them. The woman—Natalia, was it? She saw Fritzsch looking at her—”