Mama shook her head. “They are looking for hiding Jews on the streets and in the houses. They don’t know about the sewer, at least not yet.” She drew me close and we sat down on our bed. From across the chamber, Saul’s eyes met mine, his expression a mix of warmth and concern. We had grown closer in the weeks since he learned the awful news about his brother and Shifra and I had comforted him. Living together in such tight quarters made everything more intimate and familiar, too. I knew the ways that he ate and slept, could tell from his expression whether he was angry or sad or worried.

Mama wrapped her arms around me and we tried to make ourselves as small and silent as possible. But it was useless. If the Germans searched the tunnels and discovered the chamber, we would have nowhere to hide. We should go, I thought, not for the first time. Better to leave than be caught in the chamber like trapped animals. But without Pawel to lead us, we simply had no way out.

We sat in silence for what seemed like hours, listening to the sounds above, waiting for the footsteps in the tunnel that would spell our doom. At one point, I heard a woman’s voice cry out and wondered if someone had been caught. The rain began to fall heavier now, muting the sounds of the police hunting their prey.

Eventually the voices faded, although I didn’t know whether the Germans had been deterred by the rain or given up looking. The searching sounds were replaced with a rhythmic thundering, like marching boots as the rain teemed heavier. Outside the chamber, the pooling water began to run in a great stream. “Spring floods,” Bubbe said ominously.

I looked up to see the shadow that passed across Mama’s face. The notion was nearly as scary as the idea of the Germans looking for us. We always knew that heavy spring rains, when they finally came, were going to mean trouble. It had rained often the past few weeks and the river was swollen, the levees full. Whenever rain fell on the streets above, the sewer waters in the big tunnel would rise, pushing water into the narrower pipes and causing small waves to lick at the entrance to our chamber. Usually the rain stopped after a while and the waters receded.

But today it did not stop. Sheets of water fell above. I imagined a torrent of water pouring through the sewer grate where I went to look for Ella that morning and backing up in the pipes. Now that the Germans had ceased searching on the streets above, we unfolded ourselves from the place where we huddled. We tried to carry on with our day, Mama preparing a late lunch of reheated potato soup. The rain continued all day, and as evening fell, the water began to swirl at the entrance of the chamber. I fell asleep beside Mama and dreamed of the waters rising and carrying our plank bed away like a toy boat.