I blinked and noticed I’d gathered my sweater in my hands, as if my grip could keep it from leaving my body. I loosened my hold, then moved closer to Zofia and Karol. An empty promise rose in my throat, a promise that I’d keep my siblings safe. Maybe I should have voiced it, empty or not, but I couldn’t bear to lie anymore. Instead I stayed silent and wrapped my arms around them. It felt like less of a lie that way.

“Take the prisoners to transport,” Ebner said.

That’s not what the guards had said before taking me to interrogation, and for that reason alone I was relieved. We shuffled out of the cell. My parents tried to stand tall, but their shoulders slumped, depleted, and Tata leaned on Mama while she staggered beneath his weight. The guards didn’t help or provide him with a cane—not that I expected otherwise. I brought up the rear, and my siblings stayed between us. Outside, guards ushered prisoners into large trucks that roared with life, swallowed inmates whole, and belched hot, black smoke from their tailpipes.

We climbed into the belly of our designated beast, and I imagined five chess pieces being captured, one by one.

Benches ran along either side, similar to the vehicle that had taken me to Szucha. We found a few remaining seats while more prisoners filled the empty space in the center, then the truck began to move.

“Are we going home?” Karol asked from his perch on Mama’s lap.

She straightened his suspenders and kissed his cheek. “Not yet, my love.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

In silence, I listened to the truck rattle down the cobblestone streets. When it stopped, we’d reached the railway station, where a train waited. Mama and Tata gave each other the look, the one full of concern. This time, something else joined it.

Hopelessness.

I clutched Tata’s arm and held tight to the tiny pawn he’d made me. Pawiak prisoners surrounded us, so many that it was difficult to move, more difficult to breathe. Impatient soldiers herded us into empty railcars with boarded windows while prisoners elbowed me, stepped on my toes, and crushed me until I fought for air. Surely they didn’t intend to fit so many into one small space.

But they did. More Pawiak prisoners filed into the railcar and tramped across the lime-covered floor. After squeezing between my parents, I noticed two buckets in the corner. One was full of water, the other was empty. A waste bucket. At the sight, I cringed and resolved not to use it, no matter how long we were trapped. Even Pawiak was more civilized—we’d had designated times to relieve ourselves.