Distant shouts reached my ears, followed by prisoners who poured from their blocks and hurried to the square to assemble for appell. Fritzsch dismissed me and moved to the front so he could watch the bedraggled crowd for signs of poor posture or moving lips. Once I located the members of my block, I took my usual place next to Father Kolbe, who didn’t look surprised to find me already outside. This wasn’t the first time Fritzsch had summoned me prior to roll call to start the day with a chess game. As we assumed formation, Father Kolbe caught my eye and flashed a small smile. Even in this living hell, somehow he remained joyful.

When everyone was in place, the sudden quiet sent a shiver down my spine, even though this morning was warm compared to others. Thousands of people were gathered in this square, yet the only sound was that of SS officers barking out numbers.

As the officers continued counting, I focused on the tall wooden sentry box in the distance. Stationed inside, the faint outline of a guard clutched a massive machine gun. One bullet, that’s all. One bullet could have liberated me from one life sentence and condemned me to the next, from living hell to eternal damnation. Surely the suffering would be more bearable in the next inferno.

I curled my toes and clenched my teeth, irritable and impatient, until the gentle hum of a Marian hymn broke the quiet. Every time he whispered prayers or hymns, I was shocked by how quiet Father Kolbe managed to be. The only reason I could hear him was because I’d trained my ear to detect his reassuring murmur.

After appell, I concealed myself in the crowd, avoiding the kapos’ blows and ignoring the guards’ screams, and joined my labor assignment. Once in line, someone who didn’t belong in my kommando pushed through the crowd—the other female inmate, Prisoner 15177.

“Where is the girl?”

No need to specify further.

I didn’t intend to acknowledge her, but another prisoner shoved me toward her. I whirled on him with a glare. “Don’t touch me.”

“Oy vey, I asked where she was. I didn’t say throw her at me,” the Jewish woman said, frowning as she joined us.

The man smirked, as if amused by my fury and her displeasure. He forced his way into the center of the throng, securing sanctuary from the blows that would descend upon us while we marched.

The woman glanced over her shoulder, making sure the guards were distracted, and lowered her voice. “Well, I’m glad I finally found which kommando you joined. We need to talk.”

If she thought I’d want to talk to her, she must not have remembered what she’d done.

“You lied to me. You told me I’d see my family soon, but you knew they were dead.”