Still, he would not hear of it. “Promise me you won’t go,” he said, his voice somewhere between a command and a plea. I wondered why he would trust my word when I had broken it by talking to Ella. His brow furrowed deep with concern. “I can’t let anything happen to you.” He reached up and touched my cheek. I saw then how his feelings for me had grown, the depth of affection in his eyes. We had known each other such a short time; it hardly seemed possible that we had grown so close. But life seemed to move at a different speed during the war, especially here, when any moment might be our last. Everything was intensified.

I nodded. Saul leaned back, seemingly satisfied by my promise. But my mind still worked. I knew every bit how dangerous it would be to go to the street. If I didn’t, though, we were all going to die, Mama, my unborn sibling, the Rosenbergs and me. There was no other choice.

The next night, I waited anxiously, planning to slip from the chamber. I did not tell Saul, or anyone else, that I was going to see Ella. The skies beyond the grate had been gray earlier and I hoped it would be too cloudy and there would not be enough light for Saul to go read at the annex and invite me to go with him. But as the others were getting ready for bed, he approached me. “Do you want to come with me?” He sought me out more often these days for company, sometimes sharing stories from his youth as we made our way through the tunnels, other nights just ambling beside me in thoughtful silence.

The invitation, which I normally would have welcomed, filled me now with dread. “I’d love to, but I’m exhausted,” I said, hating that I had to lie to him. But it was not entirely untrue; we all had less energy from not eating.

Surprise, then disappointment, crossed his face. “Then I won’t go either.”

Inwardly, I exhaled. “Tomorrow night?”

“Gladly.” Saul touched the brim of his hat and retreated to his side of the chamber. Watching him go, I felt a pang of regret. I looked forward to our walks and it hurt to say no and reject him now.

I waited until the others were asleep. Mama tossed and turned restlessly, made uncomfortable by her pregnancy, and I feared that by the time she fell asleep it might be too late. At last when her movements stilled and breathing went to its heavy, even snore, I crept from the chamber.

I walked down the tunnel, feeling my way in the darkness. The path to the exit Saul and I had found was the farthest I had traveled through the pipes since the night we arrived. As I made my way through the underground crypt alone, silent but for the running of the sewer water, it seemed I might be apprehended at any second. My skin prickled. I saw ghosts of my father, then Pawel. They did not haunt me, though, but rather seemed to guide me, creating faint light in the tunnel just ahead.