Saul shook his head. “You can only say kaddish if you have a minyan, ten men.” So here, with just the three of us, he and his father would be denied this mourning ritual. Saul put his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Someday, Papa, we will stand in shul and say kaddish for Bubbe.” He sounded certain, but I wondered if he believed it. The synagogue in their village had been burned to the ground. The ones in Kraków were gone, too, I thought, recalling the stilled, hollowed-out shells I had seen on my walk through Kazimierz with Ella. The few that still stood had been desecrated by the Germans and converted into stables or warehouses. It was hard to imagine a world where a prayer and the house to say it in still existed.

The next few days passed sadly for all of us. Bubbe’s loss was much harder than I imagined. The chamber felt empty and cold without her. She had been grumpy as the elderly could be and sometimes harsh, yet she had helped my mother deliver the baby and had comforted me after Mama left. Her death created more of a void than I would have expected. Now it was just Saul, his father and me. Our numbers were shrinking day by day and I could not help but wonder who would be next—or how much longer it would be until we were all gone.

21

Ella

One evening in early August, I sat alone in the garret, too restless to read or paint. The house below was still. Ana Lucia had not hosted any of her gatherings in more than a month. The mood of the Germans on the street had changed perceptibly as reports of their struggles in battle against the Soviets to the east, as well as Allied advances in Italy, became too frequent to doubt. I imagined that the guests who had once enjoyed my stepmother’s parties were in no mood to celebrate. It was just as well. With the dwindling food supply, she would not have been able to entertain in her usual style.

My eyes traveled to the photo of Krys on my desk. More than three weeks had passed since I had gone to the café to seek his help locating Sadie’s mother and found him missing. I had not heard from him since. I should not be surprised, I told myself. We had quarreled the last time we met and parted badly. I had hoped, though, that my leaving the note with Kara would have mended all of that. But I didn’t know if she had even seen him since to give it to him. More than once when visiting Sadie, I had considered making the short trip from the grate by the river to the café in Dębniki and seeing if Krys had returned. But my pride always stopped me. I had pined for Krys once, waited for him, and it had backfired horribly. I would not make the same mistake again.