“You’ll have it. And there’s a leaking pipe down the path we can tap for fresh water.” Pawel spoke kindly again now, as though trying to reassure us. Then he shifted awkwardly. “You have the money?”

Mama faltered. She had no idea that Papa had agreed to pay him, or how much. And most of the money we brought had surely sunk to the bottom of the sewer river with Papa. She reached in her dress and held out a crumpled note. A look crossed Pawel’s face and I could tell it was not as much as he had been promised. What would happen if we couldn’t afford to pay him? “I know it isn’t much.” Mama pled with her eyes for him to let it be enough. At last he took it. The religious man, who had been standing in the corner with his family, passed Pawel some money as well.

“I’ll bring you food as often as I can,” Pawel said.

“Thank you.” Mama looked over his shoulder at the other family. “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced.” She walked across the chamber. “I’m Danuta Gault,” she said, offering her hand to the father.

He didn’t take it, but nodded formally, as if meeting on the street. “Meyer Rosenberg.” He had a salt-and-pepper beard that was yellowed around the mouth with tobacco stains, but his eyes were kind and his voice melodic and warm. “This is my mother, Esther, and my son Saul.” I looked at Saul and he smiled.

“Everyone calls me Bubbe,” the elderly woman interjected, her voice raspy. It seemed odd to use such a familiar name for this woman I had just met.

“A pleasure to meet you, Bubbe,” my mother said, respecting the older woman’s wishes. “And you, Pan Rosenberg,” she added, addressing him with the more formal Polish term for mister. Then she turned back toward me. “I’m here with my husband... That is...” She seemed to forget for a second that Papa was no longer with us. “That is, I was. This is my daughter, Sadie.”

“That other family,” I could not help but ask. “The one with the little boy. What happened to them?” Part of me wished I hadn’t. I wanted to imagine they had made it to the street and found somewhere to hide. But I had never been any good at pretending or looking away. I had to know.

Pawel looked uncertainly over my head at my mother before answering, as if asking whether he should lie to me. “I don’t know for sure. But they were most likely killed at the entrance to the river,” he said finally. Shot, I thought, remembering the gunfire. We would be, too, if we went that way. “Now you understand why it is so important that you stay here, out of sight and silent.”

“But how can we stay here?” Bubbe Rosenberg demanded. “Surely now that the others were caught, the Germans will know there are people down here and come looking.” Saul moved closer to his grandmother and put his hand on her shoulder as if to offer comfort.