“But that happened more than a month ago.” I recalled hearing the news that the Germans had taken the last of the Jews from the ghetto in Podgórze. I did not know where they had been sent. But I understood now that it was the very reason the girl was hiding. “You’ve been in the sewer ever since?” The girl nodded. A chill ran through me. Living in the sewer sounded horrid. Wherever the Jews were being taken, though, must be even worse. Going underground had undoubtedly spared her that fate.

“How long will you stay there?” I asked.

“Until the war is over.”

“But that could be years!” I blurted.

“There really isn’t anywhere for us to go.” Her voice was calm, accepting of her situation. I admired her bravery; I did not think I could last an hour in the sewer, if our situations were reversed. Pity rose up in me. I wanted to do something more to help her, but I didn’t know what. I pulled a coin from my pocket and pushed it through the grate. It clattered to the ground and she scampered to pick it out of the mud.

“That’s very kind, but I’ve no way to use it down here,” she said.

“No, of course not,” I said, feeling foolish. “I’m sorry, I don’t have more food.”

“Can you see the sky from your window?” she asked abruptly.

“Yes, of course.” The question seemed an odd one.

“And all of the stars?” I nodded. “How I miss that! I can see just a tiny little sliver of the sky from down here.”

“So?” I didn’t mean it unkindly, but given her situation, it did not seem the thing to worry about. “Aren’t they all the same?”

“Not at all! Each one is its own picture. There is Cassiopeia and the Big Dipper...”

She was smart, I could tell, in a way that reminded me of my friend Miriam. “How do you know so much about the stars?”

“I love all the sciences, and astronomy is one of my favorites. My father and I used to go onto the roof of our apartment building to see them.” There was a look of sadness in her eyes. She had a whole life before the sewer, now gone.

“Your father, he isn’t with you in the sewer?”

She shook her head. “He died right after we escaped the ghetto. He drowned in the sewer waters shortly after we fled.”

“Oh!” I had not imagined water wide or deep enough to drown in beneath the ground. “How awful. My father died during the war, too. I’m sorry to hear about yours.”

“Thank you, and yours as well.”

“Ella?” a voice called behind me.

I turned, stumbling as I tried to stand back up quickly. I had not expected to hear my own name in this faraway part of town. I froze, praying the girl had scampered from view.

Then I turned to see Krys.

“Krys.” I was caught off guard by the unexpected meeting and a dozen emotions seemed to cascade over me at once. Happiness and the rush of warmth I always felt when I saw him. Anger and sadness as I remembered how he had broken up with me, all that was no longer between us. And surprise: how had he found me here?