The sound of my name broke through the furious German shouts, and I found Mama with her back pressed against the wall. She clung to my siblings and implored me to come to her. Tata’s voice rose above the din, claiming he printed the baptismal certificates and distributed them himself and that his daughter had taken the wrong basket by mistake, and I remained in the middle of the chaotic scene, paralyzed.

An SS soldier turned to my father with a condescending sneer. “You mean for us to believe you deliver documents?” To emphasize his point, he struck my father’s bad leg.

Tata collapsed, and his cane clattered against the floor as a groan escaped his clenched teeth. I screamed and darted toward him, but another blow to the stomach brought me to the floor, and I curled into myself, willing the agony to subside while the world around me turned hazy. Mama’s shriek sounded distant. A foreign voice joined hers, followed by a sharp, deliberate smack.

Hands found me, and, as the ache in my stomach dissipated, a Gestapo agent hauled me down the stairs. I struggled, but he was too strong. It was like fighting a stone pillar. He tossed me into the truck, my hip taking the brunt of the impact, pain shooting down my leg. As I sprawled across the empty floor, a thud landed beside me, accompanied by a familiar gasp. Mama. More thuds followed, indicating the rest of my family, and the door slammed shut.

The truck began to move. I pushed myself up and held one arm across my throbbing stomach. Tata sat up, wincing as the movement angered his leg, then he helped Mama. She held Zofia and Karol as if she’d never let them go, and their hiccupping sobs joined into one. Mama nestled into Tata and gingerly touched the bright red mark on her cheek.

“Dear God,” she whispered. A small, desperate prayer.

What a fool I was. To think I’d almost convinced myself that my family would be spared.

“They stopped on our street, and I saw one of them had a warrant badge. I didn’t know what to do, and after they took the basket and found the certificates, they forced Mrs. Kruczek to identify me, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

As my voice quivered, Tata guided me closer and wiped blood from my cut lip. “There’s no shame in fear. You didn’t do anything wrong, Maria.”

His words weren’t true, but I didn’t say so. If I’d thought faster, I wouldn’t have cost my entire family their freedom.

“Did we break the law?” Zofia murmured.

Tata placed an affectionate hand over hers. “This war has brought incredible cruelty upon Jewish people, so your sister, Mama, and I have been helping them. Helping innocents flee persecution is not wrong.”