Mateusz placed his hand briefly over mine before returning to his work. For a moment I was too taken aback to listen to what he was saying. “If Fritzsch is sent back, I’ll make sure you have a warning. Try not to worry.”

How little he knew of the world I lived in. Worry was a constant companion. In the workshop, he saw a glimpse of how prisoners were treated, but it was nothing compared to what we experienced each day. And I didn’t share details.

If he knew my history with Fritzsch or my plans for when I found him again, Mateusz wouldn’t have helped me. He would have said confronting Fritzsch would be dangerous, which is what Hania would have said, too. That was why I couldn’t tell them. Anyone privy to the truth could interfere, and I couldn’t have that. Besides, the less Mateusz knew, the safer he’d be.

Pilecki wouldn’t return to Warsaw until his work was done, and neither would I. With Mateusz’s help, I was keeping a close eye on Fritzsch, and, once I was free, I’d get justice. Sometimes my vow was the only thing that got me through the day. I’d return to Warsaw and live the life I’d promised my loved ones I’d live.

But first, I would confront Fritzsch.

Chapter 24

Birkenau, 26 April 1943

WHEN LAGERFÜHRERIN MANDEL announced that there would be no labor, I should have been relieved. But the Beast was never the bearer of good news.

I took my place with my labor assignment, but I would have almost preferred another arduous workday to whatever Mandel had planned. As she ordered this häftling to shut up and that häftling to straighten the line, she dealt ten times as many blows.

At last she stationed herself by the gate and ordered her beloved women’s orchestra to play. The inmates, women forced to use their skills for survival as I had been with chess, struck up the Horst-Wessel-Lied, so we marched in time to the Nazi national anthem while the guards sang along. Thank goodness we weren’t ordered to join in. When the music ended, the guards descended on us with curses and blows while their Alsatians growled and strained against their harnesses, herding us like cattle, ready to sink their bared fangs into our flesh at a word from their handlers.

A woman ahead of me turned around to look at Mandel. At once, a guard pulled her out of the ranks. She wouldn’t be coming back. Those who turned to look at the Beast never returned.