In his sleepy stupor, Anton thought the far-off buzzing that roused him was an insect. He sneezed as he sat up in his makeshift bed. Hay stuck to his clothing and his face. Dust tickled his nose. A few hours of sleep had not erased the exhaustion in his bones.

The buzzing grew louder. As he came fully awake, he realized it was not the sound of insects, but engines.

Anton leapt to his feet, ran to the barn door, and moved the hoe and shovel aside. Then, cracking the door open, he peered outside. A fingernail of sun had just cleared the horizon in the east, but the dawn light was not yet bright enough to see anything. The engines—and there had to be many of them—rumbled from the south. Anton recognized the grinding of the half-tracks. That could mean only one thing. The gestapo was coming.

He raced back to the hay pile where Bubbe still slept. He knew she was drained and he wished he could let her sleep longer, but he did not think that would be wise.

“Bubbe! Bubbe!” He shook her gently by the shoulder. She awoke with a start.

“What is it, my child?” Unlike Anton, she was instantly alert.

“The gestapo. Coming up the road. We need to hide.”

Bubbe struggled to her feet. She shook the hay from her hair and clutched her walking stick.

“How much time do we have?”

“Very little,” Anton said. “I couldn’t see the half-tracks, but I could hear them coming.”

“If only we could reach the forest before they arrive,” she said.

Anton shook his head. “We don’t have time. We’re going to have to find a place to hide here.” He glanced up at the loft. There was a ladder on the far wall. “Can you climb, Bubbe?”

“I can try,” she said.

She hurried her tired body to the ladder. He heard her groan in pain as she raised her left foot and placed it on the first rung. Next, she tried to pull herself up. From the sharp intake of breath, Anton knew that he had asked the impossible. They would never make it to the loft in time.

What will we do? Anton’s eyes darted around the barn. When they settled on the hay pile, he realized there was one task that could not wait.

“Bubbe, help me, please!” he called as he raked the hay back and forth. They needed to remove the outlines their bodies had made when they slept. Bubbe used her walking stick to stir the hay, making it look as natural as possible. As they worked, Anton struggled to think of a place they could hide. Uncle Dmitri had thought the cave perfect because it kept them safe even though they were right beneath the gestapo’s feet.

That’s it! Anton thought. Trust Uncle Dmitri to inspire an idea that might actually work.

“Come, Bubbe!” he said. “We must hurry.”

“Where will we hide, my child?”

“Trust me,” he said, taking her by the arm. “There is no time to lose.”

They scurried into the spot Anton had thought of, moments before a Mercedes led three gestapo half-tracks and a troop truck into the yard.

“Spread out,” a familiar voice shouted. “Find them. Schnell, schnell!”

The soldiers leapt from the back of the truck and the half-tracks. Several of them took the barn. The rest spread out over the grounds. All of them carried submachine guns.

Six of the men strode toward the house. A small staircase led to the front door. Before even checking to see if it was locked, they kicked it open with a crash.

It’s a good thing the people who lived here have cleared out, thought Anton. Watching the gestapo break into their home would have been terrifying.

If he and Bubbe were going to survive, they needed to endure the next few minutes. It appeared the major was determined to leave no part of the farm unsearched. The soldiers disappeared into the house, their boots thundering across the wooden floors. Anton could hear them shout, “Klar! Klar!” as they cleared each room.

Bubbe sat with her eyes closed, squeezing his hand so tightly he thought she might crush his fingers. She whispered prayers, and though her voice didn’t carry much, Anton wished he could convince her to be silent. He knew that in this moment of peril, Bubbe needed to speak to God. Her faith strengthened her will to fight. But Anton was not convinced that prayers alone would save them from the guns of the gestapo. Rina had been devout, and her prayers had gone unanswered.

When the soldiers entered the barn, Anton’s pulse thudded at his temples. The men searched the loft and the stalls. Cold morning air blew through the wide open doorway and swirled pieces of hay around their legs. Two of the soldiers had rifles with bayonets attached to the barrels. The major gave a command and the two men advanced on the pile of straw. Their bayonets gleamed.

Anton held his breath.