I had not slept either, other than the short while when I’d hidden with Sadie beneath the stairwell. I was suddenly exhausted from the long night of hiding Sadie and walking the city with her. I dropped down softly beside Krys, trying not to wake him. As I watched him, a mix of affection and desire arose in me. I wished more than ever that things between us might be as they had been before the war, and that it wasn’t all so complicated now. He shivered in his sleep. Even though it was spring, a chill from the night air lingered in the unheated room. Krys had no blanket, but a coat was flung on the floor not far from the mattress, so I retrieved it and covered us both. Then I leaned my head softly against his shoulder.

He seemed to sense my presence and his eyes flickered open. “Ella, you’re here. I’m so glad.” He put his arm around me and I moved closer, feeling like everything that had happened since he left for the war had been a bad dream.

“I let myself in,” I said. “You should lock the door.”

“I left it open for you. Anyway, if they want to come for me, a lock isn’t going to stop them.”

He was talking about the Germans, I realized, shuddering inwardly. Krys’ work for the Home Army made him a wanted man. Suddenly it seemed as though they might burst through the door at any second. Even this simple moment together was fragile, fraught with danger.

He reached around the far side of the mattress, then pulled out a small wrapped parcel and handed it to me. “Happy birthday,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said, touched. I had not expected Krys to remember my birthday; I had nearly forgotten myself. Inside the parcel was a piece of Polish honey cake, dusted with powdered sugar.

“It isn’t much, but I didn’t know until last night that I would be seeing you. It’s the best I could do on short notice.”

“It’s perfect.” We did not have forks, so I broke the piece of cake in two and passed him half. Eating the sweet dessert with our hands at such an early hour of the morning felt strange, yet somehow right. “A new tradition,” I added. Then I felt my cheeks go warm. I had not meant to suggest that we might carry on together.

“A new tradition,” he repeated, his gaze holding mine. He reached out to wipe a smudge of powdered sugar from my lip.

“You live here?” I asked.

“Not exactly. This is a safe house and a good place to rest when I’m working.”

“What about your parents?” I asked, puzzled. “They’re nearby.”

He nodded. “I still leave my things with them and go there to wash. But I stay away as much as I can to protect them. I can’t put them in danger any more than I can you.”

I saw then that his keeping his distance from me these past few months was not an excuse. He really had been trying to shield me from the dangers of his work. I drew closer to him. “Well, I’m not staying away anymore. I don’t want to.”