Before I finished, something smacked against my cheek and knocked the breath from my lungs. As I landed amid the fresh snow, Protz loomed over me. He regarded me with his usual contempt, and I dropped my gaze to his feet in anticipation. The feeling of a boot colliding with my body was all too familiar, so if it was going to come, I wanted to be prepared.

“I’m sure you’re aware Prisoner 15177 has a brother who works in Crematorium II. Lately, there’s been no need to operate its gas chamber, but I can change that and give the lazy bastard someone to drag out of it. Another word out of your mouth, Polack, and he’ll be burning the Jewish whore’s corpse.”

Whether or not Protz had the power to fulfill the threat, I didn’t know, but it wasn’t a risk I could take. There was no point in replying, anyway. Instead I watched a few drops of blood fall from my nose onto the white snow—he must have punched me. Sometimes I wondered why I wasn’t better at dodging blows by now. Protz’s footsteps crunched against the snow, growing fainter until they disappeared altogether. Then I was alone. I sat up but stayed where I was, clinging to the tiny pills.

It was during such times, when I’d failed, that I missed Father Kolbe most. When the misery overtook me, he’d always known what I needed, whether it was a kind word, his comforting presence, a chess game, or his rosary. I placed my hand over the hidden pocket, feeling the round beads through the thin fabric. It helped, but, no matter how hard I’d tried during the past few years, I’d never found Father Kolbe’s resilience.

“What the hell, Maria? You’ll freeze to death, and you’re bleeding.”

I wasn’t sure if a few minutes or hours had passed when Irena’s voice broke through the howling wind. As I stood up, I wiped the lingering blood from my nose and discovered it was frozen. That was when I realized how cold I was.

“Hania has typhus.” Speaking through my chattering teeth was almost as difficult as voicing those words. “There’s not enough medicine in the hospital block to treat her, and Protz refused to help. Do you have anything?”

Irena shook her head. At first the small pills in my palm had been better than nothing; now they taunted me, reminding me how helpless I was. I could provide her with some relief, but not enough. And the evacuation was tomorrow.

The same thoughts must have been on Irena’s mind. She dropped her voice to a murmur. “Maria, the evacuation plan only includes the fittest. The sick will be left here.”