When the boys are outside, out of earshot, Róża exhales and reaches for Shira’s hand. She tries to think up a plan for if they return, if they wish to scale the loft. Perhaps Henryk can move the ladder away—

But Piotr is back within the hour, this time with a different boy. Róża fears the hay has shifted, that they aren’t completely covered over, but she doesn’t dare move. Her breath catches in her throat. Her hand, clammy with sweat, is still on Shira’s.

“Did your family keep pigs in here?” the boy asks.

“I don’t know what’s been in here. I’m sorry it smells, but at least we can be alone.”

“There’s hay up there,” the other boy says, pointing at the loft.

“I think it’s more smelly. Over here is better.”

Piotr leads the boy to the corner of the barn. Soon Róża hears the press of a body against the wall, a heaviness of breath. Heat floods the pit of her stomach. She strains to see through the hay as the boys fumble to push their pants lower, raise their shirts higher.

Róża is unsure if Shira’s face is turned toward or away from the corner. Can she see what’s happening? What if she makes a noise?

The barn door flies open, again catching Róża unawares—and the boys too. They split apart, but not before Krystyna sees.

“Dariusz, it’s time for you to leave. Now.” Krystyna’s voice is shrill.

The boys scrabble with their clothes, tugging and buttoning, heads bowed, faces reddened, as they duck out of the barn.

Heart rattling, Róża watches Krystyna’s face—tilted toward the loft, questioning what the boys have witnessed, what Róża has—before she turns to go.

She listens as Krystyna follows Piotr into the farmhouse, as Dariusz pounds down the road. Shira wriggles her hand away.

“Shira?” Róża whispers, trying to unstopper her breath.

No answer.

“You did a good job staying still and silent.”

“Why did Pani Wiśniewska scold like that?”

“She was frightened.”

“Why?”

Róża pauses, wondering again what Shira saw. “She wants Piotr to be safe.”

“Is he?”

“Yes, Shirke.” But even as Róża says this, her lips form prayers for him.

That evening Krystyna and Henryk huddle by the coop. Róża can just make out Krystyna’s urgent pleading.

“I want them out now.”

“Has something happened?”

“No.”

“Are you certain?”

“Nothing has happened. I just want them out.”

“Krystyna, I don’t understand—”

“It’s not safe. We have to protect our own.”

“You were the one who said they had no place to go.”

Krystyna covers her face with her hands and turns toward the house. “I have to get back to Łukasz.”