“She’s right,” Krys interjected as the siren seemed to grow closer. “We should go.”

Heedless, I lingered. I could hardly bear to leave Sadie in such awful circumstances. But there was no other choice. “I will be back at first light,” I promised, certain that in leaving her, I was making the worst mistake of my life.

22

Sadie

When Ella and Krys had disappeared above the sewer grate, I turned to Saul. “What now?”

“Go back to the chamber and sleep, I suppose. Krys said we don’t need to stand guard.”

“I’m not sleepy,” I said. It was hard to imagine simply leaving the munitions sitting in the tunnel and going to bed, as if none of this had happened.

“Me either. Shall we go read?”

“I suppose.” We started in the direction of the annex. I pulled out the book I had been reading, but Saul stared off into space. “What is it?” I asked.

“I’m fine.” He brushed at his eye, then waved his hand as if flicking something away. “Nothing. It’s just that so much has happened the past few weeks. First losing Bubbe. Now this.” Tears flowed down his cheeks. I moved closer, desperate to comfort him.

“I know it’s hard,” I said, moving closer. “I’m so sorry.”

He wiped his face with his sleeve. “You must think me a great fool, a grown man crying about his grandmother. She had a long life, and a great deal more time than my brother and so many people are getting now. And dying in her sleep, that was a blessing, really. She raised us like her own sons, though, after my mother died. She was there my whole life.”

I wanted to put my arms around him, but it didn’t seem right, so I laced my fingers with his. “I understand.” There had been so much loss, so much death. Bubbe had been difficult at times, to be sure, but our families had become one and I, too, felt the pain of losing her. With so little left, each loss was a grievous wound, a gaping hole in the very foundation beneath our feet.

Saul stopped crying. Still, he did not take out his book, but stared off into the distance. “Are you all right?” I asked. I wondered if he was thinking about his grandmother or the munitions, or something else entirely.

He turned to me suddenly, took my hand. “Marry me, Sadie,” he said. I was too surprised to answer. I had not imagined his feelings were so strong. But he was staring deeply into my eyes now, his gaze purposeful and sincere. “I want you to be my wife. I love you.”

“And I love you.” I had known it for the longest time, but saying the words made it feel more true. “When we get out of here—”

“Not someday,” he said, cutting me off. “I don’t want to wait. I want to marry you now.”

“I don’t understand. Such a thing isn’t possible.”