When the doors slammed, I wanted to throw myself against them and break free so I could stay in Warsaw, go back to our cozy apartment on Bałuckiego Street in the Mokotów district, and be a successful resistance member again. I would have chosen even Pawiak over boarding the train. But the train wailed and screeched in protest as it began hauling its monstrous form down the tracks, reminding me that I didn’t have a choice.

* * *

Three Months Earlier

Warsaw, 15 March 1941

Someday, someone other than Vera Menchik would win the Women’s World Chess Championship; if I were going to be the second female world champion, I had to practice. After dedicating my day to chess, I finished my final game in the evening, when my siblings were asleep; then a few raps on the door announced Irena’s arrival.

As Tata welcomed her into the living room, Mama brewed ersatz tea and set the teapot, cups, and saucers on the coffee table. The crisp white porcelain reflected the lamplight while the gold trim glinted beneath its warm glow. Tata was the only one who poured a cup.

Irena sat on the sofa, keeping distance between us. I ran my fingers over the intricate mahogany arms, fluffed a cobalt velvet cushion, and picked up a black knight from my chessboard, all in an effort to distract myself from the stifling tension. At last Tata set his untouched teacup down and cleared his throat.

“Irena, have you learned how to play chess yet?”

“No.”

More silence. I put the knight back and selected a white bishop.

He made a second attempt. “You’ve been doing this a long time, haven’t you, Irena? Do you have any good stories? A memorable errand, or a close call with a Nazi, perhaps?”

She considered the query. “Once, a soldier caught me during curfew, so I pretended he’d stopped me on my way home from work. I proved it with my fake permit and gave the bastard hell until he let me go.”

Tata fought to control an amused grin. “An impressive escape,” he said, then he turned to Mama. “Don’t you agree, Natalia?”

She sat with one leg crossed over the other, arms folded. When he prompted her, she closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and sighed.

After I spent a few more minutes fiddling with my chess pieces, the clock chimed eleven times. I peered out the window and watched as trucks equipped with loudspeakers rattled down the street, announcing that curfew was in effect. I’d never broken curfew before. Such blatant rebellion sent tingles across my skin, but Irena’s critical voice crept into my head. I silenced it. Distractions hindered me in chess, and they would hinder me within the resistance. When mistakes were made, that’s how the game was lost.