Frau Meinhart placed steaming bowls of stew before us. No one spoke throughout the meal, but the painful silence didn’t bother me. My one serving of stew held more pork, carrots, onions, and cabbage than ten servings in Auschwitz. The broth warmed me from the inside out while the tender vegetables, thick, juicy cuts of meat, and sliced bread dispelled the ever-present ache of hunger. It was the most wonderful meal I’d ever had.

But mine was a small portion, only a thin slice of bread and a few spoonfuls of stew. As I finished and rose in search of more, a hand grabbed my bowl. At once, I snatched it back, and though the other inmate’s grip remained firm, so did mine. Such audacity, stealing from one of the oldest numbers in the women’s camp. She wouldn’t get away with it. Experience had taught me how to win this game, so I would resist until she gave up, searched for an easier target, and gave my seniority the proper respect—

Her free hand closed around my wrist, so tight it forced my grasp to loosen, and I looked up to see if I recognized this häftling who had overpowered me.

Irena stood above me, one hand on my wrist, the other on my bowl. She wrenched it away. “Enough.”

This wasn’t my block; this was the farmhouse. Herr and Frau Meinhart kept their eyes on their own meals while Irena removed my bowl from the table. Irena wasn’t a Nazi or another inmate. She was supposed to be my friend, so why was she starving me?

When she left my bowl by the sink, Irena placed both hands on the counter before looking over her shoulder. Given the way she’d suddenly turned on me, I expected her to regard me with hatred and disgust; instead her eyes glistened before she blinked and swallowed hard.

We’d seen what overeating did to prisoners in my condition. My body couldn’t take it. Even if I’d been thinking properly, the temptation to consume my serving and countless more was too great. Frau Meinhart had given me a safe, manageable portion; now Irena was saving my life.

Once she’d composed herself, Irena returned to her seat. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I suppressed them. I wasn’t sure why I’d been crying so much.