I saw it then from her point of view. These were cherished moments of freedom to her, maybe the last she would have. I started toward the shadowy streets below the Rynek, assuming that she wanted to see the Old Town, planning to lead her as I always had. But Sadie caught my arm, tugging in a different direction, taking the lead and guiding me south toward Kazimierz, the neighborhood that had once been Kraków’s Jewish Quarter—and her home.

Though I had passed by the outskirts of Kazimierz several times on my way to the bridge, I had not walked through the neighborhood since the start of the war. It was a cluster of narrow streets, packed with more than a dozen synagogues. Once it had bustled with Jewish shops and merchants, more Yiddish spoken on the streets than Polish. The Jews were all gone now, the buildings burned and windows broken. But the remnants were still here, Jewish writing etched on a shard of broken glass, the faint outline of a mezuzah where it had once hung on a door.

We walked the deserted streets without speaking, the silence broken only by the shards of glass that crunched beneath our feet. I watched Sadie out of the corner of my eye. Her expression grew sadder with every passing block. This was the first time she had seen what had become of her neighborhood and I wondered if she regretted coming. “We can turn back,” I offered. “Go another way.” Seeing what was no longer would surely only bring her more pain. But grim and determined, she pressed on.

Sadie turned down a smaller street and stopped before a row of town houses. They did not seem to have been as badly destroyed as some we had passed. It looked as if people might live there. Sadie did not speak as she gazed up at the building, lost in memories.

“Yours?” I asked.

She nodded. “Our apartment was on the third floor.” They had lived in only part of the building, I realized, not the whole house as we did. Sadie’s home had been a simple one, but I could tell from the way her eyes danced with memories that it had been filled with warmth and love.

“You’ll come back here,” I said. I slipped my hand into hers and laced our fingers together. “After the war.” Though I meant it kindly, we both knew it was a lie. The war had shattered her life into too many pieces to be put together the same way again. Whatever life held for her after the war, it wouldn’t be here.

Sadie stood motionless for so long that I feared she would not leave at all. I prepared to coax her away, but she took a last look at the house and turned to me. “I’m ready,” she said at last. Together we walked slowly back toward the river to Podgórze.

As we neared the bridge, I scanned the far bank for Krys. He wasn’t there, of course. It was too early, more than an hour before we were supposed to meet. Still, I worried about all of the bad things that might have happened—that he had not been able to get food, that he had been arrested.