“Silly. That’s the language they speak here in Argentina. You’ll learn it from the clients, from the merchants, from the neighbors. In time you’ll forget about your life in the shtetl.”

“I’ll never forget my parents!” Batya cried out wildly. “I’m supposed to bring them here, with my youngest sister.”

“If you work hard and are nice to your clients, you can save money.” Rochel stood up and extended her hand. “After you wash up, get dressed and come downstairs to meet the sisters.”

“May I have opium first?”

Rochel shook her head. “I gave it to you for pain. It’s very expensive. Now you must either earn enough to buy it yourself or force your body to forget about it. If you want my advice, it’s bad for you.”

Batya dropped her face into her hands. She craved the lightness that opium brought her, when she forgot both the clients awaiting her and her death wish because of them. But if she ever had any money, she would need it to get her parents out of Russia.

When she still claimed to be too weak to rise from her bed, Rochel said, “Let me give you a sponge bath.” Gently, she helped Batya out of her nightshirt, then, with a small touch, indicated for her to lie back.

She left the room briefly and returned with a bowl of warm soapy water. Before she began washing Batya, she passed the tips of her fingers along Batya’s arm. Then the other. “It feels nice, doesn’t it?” With the lightest touch she stroked Batya’s legs, down her thighs and shins, and ended at her toes.

She pressed a round yellow sponge to Batya’s cheek, so she could feel its softness, then dipped it in the water, squeezed out the excess, and passed it along Batya’s collarbones. She stroked down her middle, then circled her breasts, staying away from the hardened nipples.

New sensations rose in Batya’s body. Urging, confusing. She willed them to stop as Rochel’s ministering continued, never reaching any of the parts violated by the men.

The water in the bowl chilled. Rochel covered Batya’s body with a sheet, then bent toward her. “It’s enough for now,” she whispered. Her puff of breath in Batya’s ear was warm, sending a shiver of pleasure through her body. When Batya opened her eyes, Rochel extended her hand. “Ready to get up?”

Batya sat up and took Rochel’s hand. Pressing it to her face, she took comfort in the touch of security and friendship.

Chapter Twenty

It was ten more days before the doctor declared Batya well. In those long days and nights, Batya was instructed in the ways of the flesh, learning from her own sensations what would please another person. “There’s so much to the body,” Rochel said, and took turns with Nettie explaining and demonstrating ways to delight men.