The name was enough to make me giggle, despite its sarcastic edge. I darted toward the exit. She followed at my heels, but the bell chimed, announcing another patron and saving me from her rebuke—for the time being, anyway. I hurried outside and barely made it a few meters down the empty street before I burst into laughter.

“Have you lost your mind?” Irena called out as she followed me to where I’d stopped outside a barbershop. “Why do you always do that?”

After a moment, I composed myself. “The Volksdeutsche were watching us and seemed to suspect something, so I knew a fake argument would make them lose interest. And it worked, didn’t it, cousin?”

“If it hadn’t? Good Lord, Maria, they could’ve lied to the nearest SS man simply to get us arrested and shut us up.”

“Calm down, Irena. Don’t make me start complaining about Patryk again.”

Her anger dissipated, and with a faint but fond smile she leaned against the shop window. “Patryk was my father’s name.” She was quiet, then sighed and reverted to being critical. “Of all the stories you could’ve developed, you couldn’t think of anything better than turning me into a lovesick idiot?”

“It’s easy and believable. Checkmate,” I replied, grinning. “Admit it, that was fun.”

Irena lost her grasp on her attempted reprimand, and she shook her head. “You’re an idiot, but somehow your stupid plan got them to leave so we could deliver those funds, so I guess you’re not as incompetent as I thought. I didn’t say you were competent,” she added when she noticed my chin lifting. “Just not completely incompetent.”

“Well, I guess you’re not as awful as I thought. Not nice. But not completely awful.”

“Watch yourself. I still have the power to make your life hell, Helena Pilarczyk.”

“And I can tell your mother how much you curse around me. You’re not the only one with power, Marta Naganowska.”

Narrowing her eyes, Irena started down the street, though not before I caught the smile she tried to hide. I masked my own grin and jogged to catch up. She heaved an exasperated sigh when I reappeared beside her.

As we walked, I basked in satisfaction. Another successful day of resistance errands. My pieces were in position, my strategy was set, and the opening phase was transitioning into the middlegame. In this phase, white and black struck with full force, utilizing every skill to capture the opponent’s king. It was the most dangerous phase of every chess game. But also the most exciting.