The only saving grace was that the camp was still run by Italians and not Germans. That meant that standards were not as rigid or brutal as they might have been. If we had a decent guard on duty, he wouldn’t keep us standing outside in the cold for roll call. He’d send us back inside and take roll while he smoked a cigarette. On particularly good days, he handed it, half smoked, to one of us and it was passed around—one puff per woman. Luckily I didn’t smoke. I would give my puff to someone else and get an extra piece of bread in exchange.

Every now and then, a German armoured car would drive up. Someone would be hauled off for questioning and either return with marks of brutality upon her or not return at all. Every time we saw the gate opening and a motor car driving through, we held our breath, or even clutched at each other. I knew it would be my turn one day. Would they believe that I had nothing to tell? How would I hold up under torture?

There were good days amongst the bad. When the weather was clement, we were allowed to walk around outside. Our camp was divided from the men’s section by a high barbed wire fence. On fine days we watched the men playing football. They waved and called out to us, unless a strict guard was on duty who would prod them to silence with his rifle butt. Then one day, after I had been there for what seemed like an eternity, we were sent outside while those women on clean-up duty replaced the straw in the bedding. The men were playing football while others cheered them on. We went to the fence to watch, and I found myself staring directly at Leo.

He rushed over to the barbed wire. He looked thinner than I remembered, his face gaunt and bony. “Julietta, what are you doing here?”

“I was betrayed,” I said. “Someone told the Germans that I was not who I claimed to be and that I was escorting a Jewish child.”

I didn’t want to say that the someone was Francesca. I had always treated her with great kindness and assumed she was fond of me. Perhaps she had been paid for information. Perhaps her dislike of the Jews had pushed her over the edge, or the fact that I was leaving, which meant she would no longer be paid. I don’t know what makes people act badly in time of war.

“This is terrible. We must get you out,” he said.

I had to laugh. “You’re in a fine position to talk. Were you caught going back to the Allies?”