When Bubbe finally woke, the sky was dark. Anton’s inventory of the house had revealed almost nothing of any use. He’d found a small container of salt, two empty jars he had filled with water from the pump, and a butter knife. They would take all of it, along with the quilt.

They dined on raw potatoes and water. Bubbe looked better after resting, but Anton knew she would still need to move slowly as they tried to find the others. Traveling at night would slow them even more.

“Bubbe, where is this Priest’s Grotto? Where are we to meet Uncle Dmitri?” Anton asked.

“It is nearly five kilometers north of where we were. We have a long walk ahead of us. We may not make it before morning. If that is the case, we will have to find another place to hide.”

Anton considered this while he chewed. He hoped they could reunite with the remaining members of their group, but he was worried about locating the rendezvous point. If he and Bubbe lost their way, they would need to follow the river … and that was how the gestapo had discovered them in the first place. He hoped it would not come to that.

“Anton, there is something we need to discuss,” Bubbe said.

“What is it?”

“It is about what happened in the field with the gestapo. What you did to rescue me. You must not do such a thing again.”

“What? Bubbe—”

She held up her hand. When Bubbe was serious, a look came over her face that Anton recognized. It was stern, but not angry. It meant he was to obey her every word. He had seen it many times.

“I am grateful that you saved my life, Anton. I know that you love me and you were very brave. But you must never do such a thing again. You could have …” Her voice broke off as her eyes filled with tears. “You could have been killed. You are so much like your father. Smart. Dutiful. Courageous. You remind me of him more and more every day. But I cannot lose you, too.”

“But Bubbe, you have not lost Papa! He is in the west, fighting with the Polish army. We do not know his fate. He could return to us when the war is over!”

“True. But war is chaos. We do not know if he is alive or dead. The militias have stolen Pavel from me. Soon, they or the Russian army will come to claim Dmitri for their ranks. And if this war lasts long enough, it will take you, too. When you are older—when you are a man—you will decide if you will fight. You and you alone. But for now, you will stay alive. And if I am captured again, you will not take foolish chances. Your priority is your life and safety, not mine. I need you to swear to me.”

Anton wanted to protest, but he knew Bubbe would insist. They could argue for hours and her position would not change. He would do his best to stay alive and prevent her from being captured again. And he would give her the words she wanted. He just did not know whether he could stand by them.

“I swear, Bubbe,” he said. “I will not take such a foolish chance again.”

Bubbe patted him on the hand. “You are a good boy, Anton. Your mother and your father would be so proud.”

She stood up and stretched. “We should get moving. We have far to go, and we do not know when another gestapo patrol might pass by without warning. We will be safer once we reach the forest.

Anton was not sure he agreed, but he gathered up their supplies. He packed the water jars carefully in the blanket pack. He hooked it over his shoulder, then he and Bubbe ventured into the darkness.

The only way they could find the Priest’s Grotto was to backtrack until they recognized a landmark well enough to know which direction they should head next. Soon, the farmhouse was behind them. They crossed the rough terrain of the field and eventually were enveloped in the hardwood forest. With very little light, it was slow going. They had to navigate the forest floor while watching out for tree roots and low-hanging branches.

After about an hour, they stopped to rest. Bubbe was breathing hard, so Anton gave her a sip of water. But they could not dally for long. Bubbe insisted that they plow ahead.

A bit farther on they came to the river and Anton finally recognized where they were. In fact, they were close to their original hiding place. He’d known they needed to find a familiar place to orient themselves, but walking along the river was exactly the thing he had been hoping to avoid.

Anton stopped and listened.

“What is it?” Bubbe whispered.

“This is the river where Uncle Dmitri and the other men gathered our water. I believe the gestapo used it to track us to the cave.”

“So you think they may have planted men nearby to catch us returning to our hiding spot?”

“Yes, Bubbe,” he said. “To be safe, we should cross to the other side of the river. We must travel as quietly as possible. If they were smart, they would hide on this side of the river, closest to the cave entrance. But in truth, it is impossible to know what is in their heads.”

“But crossing the river is not safe,” Bubbe said.

“It will be if we find the right spot,” Anton replied. “Lend me your walking stick.”

Anton took the offered staff and found a flat spot on the bank. He poked ahead of him with the walking stick, feeling along the bottom of river. Soon, he stood in the water up to his knees. The bottom of the river was rocky, not muddy, which would make it easier to cross. He kept creeping forward until the water reached his waist. But with a few more steps he had crossed to the other side.

He retraced his steps and took Bubbe by the arm. As they entered the water, she winced at how cold it was. But Anton held her tightly, using the staff to keep them upright. The current was not strong and they slowly worked their way to the other side. Anton removed his coat and shirt and wrung them out. Bubbe bunched up her skirt, twisting it in her hands to do the same.

“We must be quiet, Bubbe,” he said. “If the gestapo is here, they will be watching the river. We will go around to the west and then circle back.”

Before he could say another word, someone grabbed him from behind and a hand closed over his mouth.