Maria yearned with every fiber of her body to keep the family together, but at the same time she knew she would never forgive herself if one or both died of the whooping cough when she’d had it in her power to save them. What would Peter do? If only she could ask him . . .

On her next afternoon off, she walked to Finland Station to ask about reserving a place on an Ice Road crossing, and was aghast at the confusion. Frantic crowds lined up outside evacuation offices, jostling for a slot, pulling their belongings on sleds behind them. Maria was handed a list of regulations: all passengers must have the necessary stamps and paperwork; only sixty pounds of luggage per person; you had to bring a bowl and spoon for the kasha and soup that would be served, and enough of your own food to last a few days. Her eye traveled to the bottom of the page, where a warning notice read: Those with infectious diseases are strictly prohibited. Her spirits plummeted. That ruled them out. Mikhail and Katya could not stop coughing for long.

She sat on a low wall and buried her head in her hands. She felt weak with hunger and flattened by despair. Each day she worked as hard as she possibly could: when she was not at the factory transporting shell casings, she was lining up for bread, scavenging for the increasingly rare edible plants that grew in parks and open spaces, or at home nursing her children. There was no rest, no free time. She was doing her best but it seemed that wasn’t good enough.

A hand pressed her shoulder. “Maria, how are you?” a familiar voice said, and she looked up to see Yuri, the NKVD officer.

Tears filled her eyes and she looked away, annoyed that he’d caught her in a moment of weakness.

He sat on the wall beside her. “How are your children?”

She shook her head. “Two of them have whooping cough. I had hoped to get them across the Ice Road, to receive proper care, but it seems impossible.” She waved the leaflet in her hand.

“Perhaps I can help,” he said quietly, and she looked up.

“Why would you do that?” The words came out rudely, which was not what she’d intended; her wits did not seem as sharp these days.

“Because you’re a good woman. Because you help others despite your own misfortune.” His eyes were gentle and looked directly into hers.

Maria shivered and broke away from his gaze. “It says they cannot go on the ice transport if they have an infectious disease. How do I get around that?”