The little twinge returns to my head as I anticipate what I’m about to say. I take a small breath to alleviate it. “You both deserve so many explanations from me, and I want to give them to you, but I don’t know if I can yet. I promise I’ll keep trying.”

“When you’re ready, shikse,” Hania says as she takes my hand in hers.

Irena nods. “And not a moment before.”

I intend on saying more, but the words don’t come, so I don’t force them. Instead I pull my friends close, and the scattered pieces of my life cease to matter. When our arms encircle one another, peace dispels chaos and my heart recognizes its home. Together we will help one another pick up all the fallen pieces.

When we return to the living room, everyone gathers in a wide circle around the coffee table, where Hania sits across from me, flanked by Adam and Jakub. Irena sits beside me with Helena in her lap, and Franz settles next to them. Izaak and Mrs. Sienkiewicz sit on the sofa, watching as Hania and I set up the game.

“This is a horse,” Adam exclaims, holding up a black knight.

“That’s right. There should be two black ones, and you can put one here, and the other here.” Hania points to squares B8 and G8.

Helena scrutinizes her chosen piece and shows it to Irena. “A tower.”

“Those are called rooks, and they go in the corners.” I point to the spaces. “You can put the two white ones in these corners by me, and the two black ones go in Aunt Hania’s corners.”

“How do you win the game?” Jakub asks as he sets Hania’s final bishop in place.

“That’s the only question I can answer,” Irena says. “You put the opponent in checkmate.”

I set up my last pawn. “Watch us play, Jakub, and I’ll demonstrate a checkmate in a few minutes.”

“Oy vey, gloating already, Maria?” Hania asks, flashing a competitive grin. “It’s a bit early for that, even for you.”

As Hania and I begin our game, we explain the rules to our curious onlookers. The children watch with wide eyes, interrupting to ask questions or voice exuberant suggestions about our next moves. When we reach the endgame, I make my final play, share its significance, and smile at her.

“Checkmate, Bubbe. And just for you, that’s all the gloating I’ll do.”

She chuckles. “Excellent game, shikse. Your turn, Irena.” She moves over and pulls her sons into her lap, allowing Irena to take her place across from me, despite her visible apprehension.