Zosia scrambles to her feet. “Do you know my mother?” she asks him. Before he can answer, she turns to Mother Agnieszka. “Does he?”

Mother Agnieszka’s face furrows. She wraps Zosia in an embrace, then lets her go and turns briskly away. The rabbi takes Zosia’s hand in his. She keeps hold of it, dry but soft, and inhales the stale wool smell of his coat.

That afternoon, Zosia is packed up to go. She is told that she will finally be with her own people.

“My mother? Do you mean I will be with my mother?”

In every dream in which she leaves the convent, Zosia is nestled in her mother’s arms. What if she is supposed to wait here for her? Uncertain, she goes to stand before the stone statue of Mary and, for several minutes, presses her fingers to the carved folds of Mary’s robes. Kasia finds Zosia there and clings to her. Zosia clings back.

When Sister Alicja comes for her, Zosia breaks into sobs. She doesn’t understand where she is going. Can’t they bring her mother here? Why must she leave the people who care for her? Why must she let go of her truest friend?

As Sister Alicja ushers Zosia through the front hall, several sisters are gathered in the corridor, talking.

“How can it be better for her to be taken away from here, to be placed among strangers?”

“All I know is they have been annihilated. They must reclaim whoever is left.”

“But why her? She’s just one child! They speak of sending her to Palestine!”

There is a shuffle on the stair.

“Sister Olga, are you crying? For Zosia?”

“I was frightened. God forgive me, I know there was no excuse for my nosing around. Poor girl, where are they taking her?”

“We don’t know. We must trust in God’s will.”

Sisters Alicja and Nadzieja huddle around the carriage and take turns squeezing Zosia tight. Choking back tears, Sister Alicja loops the toggle buttons at the collar of Zosia’s coat. Sister Nadzieja hands Zosia a large duffel, the little violin concealed inside, to take with her.

It is only dusk, but already the moon is out. Zosia’s heart clamors. She reaches for her braid.

“Am I going to be with my mother?” Zosia asks.

Again the two nuns hug her, burying their faces in their sleeves. They have been like mothers, caring for her, giving her what she needs.

Again, Zosia bursts into tears.

In the coach, Zosia sits sniffling and puffy eyed beside the rabbi’s wife. Head scarf drawn tight, she seeks to soothe Zosia with a hand on her arm, her eyes soft. But with Sisters Alicja and Nadzieja turning back at the convent gate, Zosia feels a rising panic. Am I being taken to my mother or to strangers, like Sister Irena said?