When he is gone, down the ladder two rungs at a time and out of the barn, Róża turns her head to look at Shira. Her eyes are closed and she is breathing evenly, asleep. Slowly, soundlessly, Róża pads down the ladder and squeezes through a small opening in the barn door. The air is frigid and snow covers the ground, but she needs this moment outside.

There are no lights on in the house. Róża wonders, Is Krystyna asleep or awake? Could she be relieved that I take Henryk’s attentions? Her thoughts circle continuously around the two of them, trying to make sense of their relationship. Henryk has his ulterior motives, but Krystyna is truly pious, Róża thinks—and generous. She should be grateful for the eggs she gives Shira to eat.

Róża steps around the side of the barn, pulls down her pants, and squats to pee. It burns where she’s been chafed. She takes a handful of snow and wipes between her legs, a cold, wet salve, before pulling her pants back on. She cradles her bruised elbows, roughed up by the floorboards, and returns to the barn. She scales the ladder and, still stinging, retreats into the hay.

She wants Natan so desperately in this moment. His lips blanketing her in kisses, causing her to quiver with desire like a taut string. They might have shared the same pulse, the same knocking heartbeat, their love as raw and intense as, now, her heartache.

Róża lifts Shira on top of her, needing the feel of her girl’s body upon hers. Shira’s hair has slipped out of its braid and feathers against Róża’s face. Róża inhales deeply, wishing to dispel the smell of wet, smoky wool Henryk has left on her. For a fleeting moment, Róża imagines that Shira is the mother and she is the child. She folds her palm over Shira’s outstretched hand and holds on tight.

It is late afternoon when Shira searches the hay, frantic. She bats at her eyes to keep tears from welling up.

“What are you looking for, Shira?” her mother whispers.

“Mama, I can’t find my bird—I think he’s at the Wiśniewskis’!”

Shira doesn’t tell her mother that her bird prefers being outside, where it’s fresh and light and there are treats to eat. Still, Shira was firm that he needed to stay in the barn, hidden—no chirping or even stretching his wings—but he slipped out when Shira went with Krystyna, and now he’s stalling his return.

Shira’s stuffed belly is in rebellion again, full of regret. She didn’t bring any food back for her mother. She had stinky diarrhea in the straw basin, causing a terrible smell in the loft; and now she fears her bird will never come back to her. She paces the loft, forgetting to be silent and still.