If Pilecki managed to speak to the Home Army, the battle we’d been anticipating for so long would be a real possibility. The idea stirred something inside me, something powerful and irrepressible, and I let it expand until it filled every part of me.

Soon, I’d be free. And once free, I’d make my way to Flossenbürg.

* * *

In the workshop the next morning, thoughts of Pilecki’s freedom prompted hopes for my own, but I didn’t dwell on them. My current reality was vastly different, and warping my perception of it could prove dangerous. A glimmer of hope, on the other hand, sometimes meant the difference between life and death. Striking the right balance was delicate.

When Mateusz sat next to me, I leaned as close to him as I dared. “Did he get out?” I asked before he could speak.

“You mean the three men who escaped from the bakery last night?”

“They were successful?”

He nodded as his fingers flew over his basket, weaving far more expertly than I ever could. Unlike me, he completed the meticulous work with exceptional skill. “By the way, the investigation against Fritzsch is moving forward, and my connections think he’ll be arrested within the next few months. Assuming he’s convicted, you won’t have to worry about him returning to Auschwitz, Maria.”

Good news, but also bad. Fritzsch deserved far worse, but if he were imprisoned it would be difficult for me to confront him. There was no sense in worrying about that yet. For Mateusz’s sake, I flashed a relieved smile. One he didn’t return as he paused from his work.

“My parents have friends in Pszczyna, and the hospital has a position available.” He stopped to clear his throat and ran a hand across his chin. “Since I’ve been considering a medical field if I attend a university, I feel as if I should—”

“That’s a wonderful opportunity.” Forcing the words out was difficult, and forcing a smile was worse. He’d become a constant for me, a tie to the life I might have had, the girl I might have been. I couldn’t bear to hear more, so interrupting him with feigned delight was my only choice. “Of course you should do it. I’m happy for you, Maciek.”

“It’s not far, so I promise I’ll stay in touch. Especially if I hear anything else.”

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but then refocused on his work, and so did I, distracting myself from waves of disappointment and panic. I didn’t want him to go. I’d grown fond of the stupid boy who’d earned me a black eye, but I’d miss far more than his company. I was losing a friend, a source of goods, and the only aid in my mission against Fritzsch.

Chapter 25

Auschwitz, 20 April 1945