She heard the maid place something on the table, then watched her feet approach the bed. The woman kneeled down and touched Batya’s shoulder. Her hand traveled down Batya’s arm, and she tugged at her, speaking softly in Russian. When Batya wouldn’t budge, she crawled under the bed too and snaked a hand around Batya to massage away the hiccups racking her body.

A few minutes passed, then the woman retreated, returning with a cup of hot tea that she placed on the floor, where the fragrant steam wafted to Batya’s nostrils. When the maid once again tried to pull Batya from under the bed, Batya let her. The maid sat her at the table and nudged the tray toward her.

A fresh boiled egg nestled upright in a cup, and a bowl of warm porridge glistened with a dollop of melted butter in its center. Next to them, on its own plate, she spotted what must have been a section of an orange. An orange.

The bounty only made Batya’s stomach tighten.

The maid gestured at Batya to open her mouth and, as if Batya were a child, placed the orange in her mouth. Batya sucked the sweet, tangy juice, then retched.

Undeterred, the maid kept trying to feed her until embarrassment made Batya take over the task. The few spoons of porridge she took tasted like wet straw. She hung her head.

The maid brought a fresh washing bowl and a clean towel. She draped on the chair a long gray pinafore adorned with a wide red, green, and yellow trim and a white blouse with puffed sleeves. Curious in spite of herself, Batya noticed that the garments were new and the sarafan large and shapeless enough for her to grow into. Next to them, the maid laid a folded set of what looked like new underthings made of white muslin. She set a pair of leather shoes with new socks on the floor.

The maid slipped out, and at the sound of the key turning, Batya walked to the door and pressed the handle. It was indeed locked. She jiggled it up and down, then banged on the door. The maid did not respond.

She was a prisoner. Batya covered her face with her hands, weeping again as her skin and mind recalled her shame. Her tears deepened into sobs. She pounded on her chest, and its echo was as hollow as her heart felt.