The Things We Cannot Say(111)

Saul’s arm across my shoulders tensed a little.

“I’ll find a way, Alina. I’ll find a way to repay you for this. All of it.”

“You already saved us. He wouldn’t have survived if he hadn’t left Warsaw with you, I’m not sure I would have survived if he hadn’t come back to me.” I wanted to weep, but we were in the short line waiting to register, and I knew I had to stay calm. I tried to inject some lightness into my tone. “I think we are even now.”

“Not by a long shot, Alina. But I will find a way.”

The line moved forward then, and we shuffled up together, and when we got to the front, with shaking hands, I showed the administrator the falsified paperwork Henry had given me.

“Hanna Wis′niewski,” he murmured, as he scrawled the name down, but he barely even looked at my paperwork, because his focus was immediately on Saul. He looked closely at Tomasz’s passport, then peered up at Saul, then back to the aged passport. For a moment, I expected him to comment on Saul’s age—he was five years older than Tomasz, and he looked much older still. But war had aged us all beyond our years, and instead, the guard’s gaze narrowed on Saul’s hair.

“You’re not Jewish, are you?” he asked. For a split second, Saul hesitated, so I interjected, “Of course he’s not. Why do you ask that?”

“Dark hair, miss. It’s a standard question. We enrolled too many Jews in the early days so we can’t let any more in. They aren’t really cut out for war—they’re just too cowardly.”

In an instant, I was speechless with rage, but Saul reached down and he took my hand, and he squeezed it—hard. Then he smiled at the officer, as he scooped the passport up quite casually.

“Is that all you need from us?” he asked with a smile.

“All done. Welcome.”

“Where do we go next?”

“Head over to the next tent. They’ll assign you jobs and sleeping quarters.”

We walked toward the second tent, and I glanced at Saul.

“I don’t know how you can bear it,” I whispered shakily beneath my breath.

“It’s just for a few weeks,” he whispered back. “We can figure it all out when Tomasz gets here. Besides, if they let me work as a doctor, perhaps they will be more concerned with my skill and less with my heritage by the time I tell them the truth.” He exhaled, then he admitted weakly, “Honestly, Alina, I am not yet strong enough to suffer for my faith again. Not yet. God forgive me, but it will be a relief to stay undercover for just a while.”



CHAPTER 36

Alice


Zofia texts me and suggests we meet for an earlier breakfast and try to come up with a plan, so by 8:00 a.m., we’re seated in the hotel restaurant. I order a double espresso, because I’ve had almost no sleep—and for the second day in a row, I order smalec. Maybe it’s written into my genes, because apparently, I love the stuff.

I kept thinking I had no expectations of this trip, but it turns out I did. I have a day left here to answer Babcia’s unspoken question, but I have no way of finding out how it all fits together. All I really know for sure is that there’s an elderly woman named Emilia somewhere here in Poland who regularly visits what might just be an empty grave with my grandfather’s name on it.

Back home, Babcia is only getting sicker. It sounds like Eddie is in freefall. Wade is juggling a million balls at once, and some are inevitably falling. Callie is drowning under more responsibility than any ten-year-old should ever have to face.

And I’m five thousand miles away, in Poland. Achieving nothing for any of them.

“So...” Zofia says lightly. “What should we do with this day, then?”

I’d almost forgotten she was there. I grimace as I meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry, Zofia. I’m going to rearrange my flight and head home today if I can.”

She tilts her head, staring at me thoughtfully.

“You’re disappointed. I understand that.”

“There just doesn’t seem much point in staying. Whatever it was Babcia wanted me to find out...we seem to be at a dead end, and back home, she’s getting sicker so...”

“I do a lot of this family history stuff.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes, I have customers who travel from all over the world trying to track down their ancestors, and they get here, and they can’t find anything. The whole country was messed up after the war. Birth records, death records, bodies...stories...all kinds of things were lost and can’t ever be found. But there’s one thing that can always be found.” She raises her gaze to me, then smiles gently. “That’s the experience of having tried. You’ve never been here before, Alice. You’re probably not coming back, right?”

“Probably not,” I admit. My throat is suddenly tight at the thought of the missed opportunities that fly right by me with every second I’m here.

“Your flight is when...tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“You have a hotel room. Me. A car. And a full day. Let’s use them?”

“But...my grandmother...and...my family...” My voice grows husky, and I pause to clear my throat. “My kids. Eddie is...they aren’t coping without me, that’s all.”