“Something is poking me through the mattress.”

“Did you expect otherwise? This isn’t the Hotel Bristol.”

I wished she hadn’t mentioned the hotel, because suddenly it was all I could think about. It soared above the heart of Warsaw and boasted an exquisite white stucco façade—a neo-Renaissance design, if I remembered what my parents had said. The stately belvedere on the rounded corner was my favorite part of the building. I imagined that I was at the hotel café for breakfast, feasting on eggs, sausage, apple-and-prune chutney, fresh orange juice, and assorted breads with jam, honey, and butter. I clung to the fantasy until a new voice broke through the desire lingering on my taste buds.

“How is she?”

“Awake,” Hania replied. “Maria, this is Dr. Janina Ostrowska.”

“Nurse, Hania, Nurse. My medical degree doesn’t change the fact that I’m an incompetent Pole, remember?” Janina didn’t mask the bitterness in her voice.

“An incompetent Pole, or an incompetent Jew?” Hania asked with a dry laugh.

“Both, I suppose. Take this, Maria.”

Janina handed me pain medication, which I dutifully swallowed while she unwrapped the bandages.

Hania peered around Janina to glimpse my back. “Merde,” she muttered, in what I assumed was French.

“I’m sure Maria appreciates the comfort,” Janina said. “Keep comforting her like that and I’ll throw you out.”

Hania chuckled and said something in Yiddish, and Janina responded in kind while she checked my injuries. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, hovering above eyes that were light brown and flecked with gold, and the fuzz on her head had a red hue, reminding me of the chicory powder Mama and Tata added to their coffee when the drink became scarce. Although it was difficult to keep my eyes on her from my face-down position, I watched her while she treated my lacerations with expert care.

“You know, staring at the doctor is an excellent cure. That’s what I always tell my patients.”

The dry remark brought me out of my stupor, and heat rushed to my cheeks. “Sorry. I’m shocked to see another woman, that’s all.”

“You and everyone else. Hania saw me when I arrived last week, struck a deal with an SS man to spare my life, and secured a position for me here.”

“Janina and I were neighbors before the ghetto,” Hania said. “My family moved, but with the help of forged documents, she passed as a Gentile, remained in an Aryan district, and worked for the resistance.”

“Until someone informed on me, and now here we are, neighbors again,” Janina said as she finished applying fresh bandages. “You’re as well as can be expected, but we’ll monitor your progress over the next few days. Get some rest.”

“Thank you, Dr. Ostrowska.”