His face is one I hardly recognize—still fighting for recovery, as we all are, yet a vast difference compared to four months ago. His skin, leathered from years of labor, radiates a newfound warmth, his hair is dark and shiny, he’s grown a thick, full beard, and the places that once held mere skin and bone now boast muscle. The strange darkness remains in his eyes, but as Hania gasps and throws her arms around him the hard edge softens.

“I thought you weren’t returning to Warsaw until the end of the summer,” she says as she releases him.

“We found the war criminal I was looking for and took care of him,” Izaak replies. “I came back to Warsaw and reconnected with Witold. He told me you’d be here.”

Izaak doesn’t reveal the war criminal’s name, but, based on the look he gives Hania, I know exactly who it was. Protz. The blow to the head didn’t kill him after all. Hania steps back and lifts a shaking hand to her mouth as her eyes well with tears. Izaak pulls her close, murmurs something in Yiddish, and kisses her cheek.

“Come in, Izaak, make yourself at home,” Mrs. Sienkiewicz says. “To think you and Hania are related to these sweet boys.” She casts a fond smile at Jakub and Adam. “When Helena and I stayed at the orphanage in Ostrówek, she played with Jakub and Adam all the time. That was before we knew Maria’s mother had taken them from the ghetto or that their mother was Irena and Maria’s friend. Quite a coincidence, don’t you think? It’s as if everyone here was meant to find each other.”

When I wrap my arms around Izaak’s midsection, he returns the embrace, tentatively at first, then tightens his hold. “The organized goods you left me and Hania saved our lives,” he says.

“Hania was responsible for most of those items. She was better at organizing than I was.” I nudge him in his sister’s direction. “Now, I think your nephews would like to get reacquainted with their uncle.”

Smiling, Hania takes Izaak by the hand and leads him toward the boys. Mrs. Sienkiewicz bustles around, fussing over adults and children alike, and prepares beef goulash with the meat and vegetables Franz brought from the farm. After dinner, she gathers everyone in the living room. As she faces us, she draws an unsteady breath before speaking.

“Today, Germany signed a total and unconditional surrender, and the Allies will formally accept it tomorrow. The war is over.”