I ENTERED OUR BASEMENT ROOM. ZASHA AND THOR WERE THERE WAITING FOR ME JUST INCHES FROM THE DOOR. TURNING ON THE LIGHTS, I COLLAPSED ON MY BED WITH the dogs, almost crying with relief. They seemed to understand something was wrong and made repeated efforts to lick my face.

“What are we going to do?” I asked them. More than anything, I needed time to think, but there wasn’t any. My finger caught on something in Thor’s fur. It was a burr, and it didn’t come out very easily. Remembering what Axel had said about grooming them, I said, “I’ll be right back.”

Out in the hall I stared at the four doors on our side of the hall that led in the direction of the cafeteria. Which one had Fritzi opened that was full of cleaning supplies? I was still so shaken from Axel’s whip demonstration that I didn’t want to be caught doing anything that looked suspicious. Axel told you to start grooming them, I reminded myself, so I investigated the room next to ours.

“Oh.” I sighed in relief, turning on the light and closing the door. This was the one. The room was jammed with janitorial and cleaning materials; rags, brooms, mops, shovels, and other similar items were piled everywhere. The smell of ammonia made me sneeze. “What about brushes?” I murmured as I began searching through the mess methodically.

When I found some buckets near the corner, I hit pay dirt. There were no fewer than four hand brushes resting in one of them, the kind you use when you’re cleaning the floor by hand. The bristles were stiff and rough. I’d have to use them gently on the puppies. Smelling each one, I picked the smallest; it seemed the cleanest and least used.

There was a closet in the corner. Peering in, I saw what looked like cleaning uniforms hanging from several hooks. A few mud-covered pairs of galoshes lay on their sides on the floor. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the workers who once spent their days cleaning the building before it had been abandoned and the Nazis had arrived. Don’t think about that now, I told myself, the way I did when thoughts of my mother and Leningrad pushed their way into my mind.

The dogs were happy to see me return, and didn’t seem to mind being brushed. In fact, they fought each other for the prized spot on my lap. “We’re going to start your training,” I told them as I finished brushing Thor’s tail. “And you’re going to learn so fast!” My plan was to work with them for an hour, then go to Galina’s and retrieve my letter. Once that letter was back in my pocket, I’d never let it go again. I didn’t want to do anything that would make Axel want to take his whip out of that drawer again.

With so little time, I wanted to focus on the most important commands for the puppies. But which ones were they? Whatever plan was ultimately put in place, the one thing I would need from the dogs was silence. I sat cross-legged in the middle of the room. Thor had focused his attention on one of my shoes, while Zasha crawled into my lap, around my back, and into my lap again.

“So,” I said out loud, “are you ready?” Both dogs glanced at me, but continued with their play. “I need to teach you to be quiet. But I can’t do that until I teach you to speak.” Just then I heard two voices in the hall and the clatter of something heavy being dropped on the floor not far from us. The dogs and I froze and stared at the door, but no one entered. Hammering began almost immediately; I hoped the added noise wouldn’t distract the puppies too much from what I needed to teach them.

“Thor!” I said. He turned to look at me, recognizing his name. “Speak!” As soon as I said it, I barked two times. Both dogs regarded me as if I’d grown an extra leg. “Speak!” I barked again. Thor made whimpering sounds, as if he wanted to join in the fun. I reached out, held him lightly by his shoulders so he would have to look at me, and said, “Speak!” Again, I barked. This time he whined loudly and yawned in the way dogs do when they seem uncertain about a situation.

I petted his head. “Good boy. Speak!” Thor whined, yawned, and barked. “Good boy!” I was ecstatic. Of the five times I asked him to speak after that, he barked three more times.

Zasha had not looked at all pleased after my first bark, and had trotted off to smell the pile of chairs that lined one wall.

“Zasha, here, girl!” I snapped my fingers. She inspected me briefly — I knew she understood her name — but turned back to sniffing the legs of a chair. “Zasha!” This time she lifted her head, turned left, then right, as if to see who had called her, and then slowly walked toward me, sitting down about two feet in front of me.

“Zasha — speak!” I repeated my barking sounds. Thor barked once, but Zasha said nothing.

“Speak!” I cried, thinking maybe it was better to use one word. Thor barked loudly. “Good boy!” I petted him as I said it. Just as I was about to try it on Zasha again, she barked. “Good girl!” I scooted onto my knees so that I could reach her and pet her. Since the moment I met them I knew both Thor and Zasha were good-hearted dogs, smart dogs. But Zasha always seemed to me like she was more thoughtful, if you could say that about a dog. Like now, when she listened as I taught Thor, learning easily and quickly before it was even her turn.

For the next ten minutes I repeated this exercise with the dogs. The sounds of hammering continued. Although I was curious to see what was going on, teaching the dogs was my priority, and so I resisted. The only problem was when I said “speak,” now they both barked, but it was still progress. It encouraged me to move on to step two.

As I considered how I was going to do that, Zasha rolled over; Thor pawed at her as if he wanted to wrestle. He barked sharply at her several times. “Thor — quiet!” He looked at me curiously, but obviously couldn’t understand the new command. When he barked again, I said, “Quiet!” and gently put my hand around his muzzle. He didn’t like that one bit and shook my hand off.

Zasha was on her feet, alert, watching us closely. Thor barked again as if in protest. “Quiet!” I said, and for a few seconds held his muzzle shut. There was a glimmer in his eye like he might be putting the sound and the action together. I let go quickly, not wanting to hurt or frighten him. Just as I was about to try it out on Zasha, someone opened the door. My body tensed and I jumped to my feet, hoping that if it was Axel he wouldn’t find fault with me or the room or the dogs when he entered.

It was a soldier. He laughed when he saw the dogs and said something to me in German. I felt my hand go to the pocket of my coat where my letter from Axel should have been. I responded in Russian, and he shrugged as if he understood that I couldn’t converse with him. Thankfully, he seemed more interested in whatever he was doing than in finding out why a strange Russian boy was down here. The dogs ran out the open door.

“Zasha! Thor!” I got up and ran after them. They were already greeting and being petted by a second soldier. He laughed and talked with the other soldier who had come to our room.

They’d attached two metal brackets on either side of the door just down the hall from our room. I stared at them, wondering what they were for. A long metal bar lay on the ground, along with a door handle.

I clapped my hands. “Thor! Zasha! Come!” I walked backward toward our room, but the hall and the two men were more interesting. Thor trotted off toward the cafeteria, and I ran after him. The men laughed and resumed their work.

I reached Thor just as he discovered a garbage bin that interested him. “Oh, no, you don’t!” I picked him up and carried him back quickly to make sure Zasha wasn’t getting into any trouble. When we got back to the hall, I was relieved to see that one of the soldiers was holding and petting her. The other was on his knees fitting the new lock into the door, screwing it securely into the heavy wood. Pulling a key from his pocket, he tested the lock and door twice.

I watched and petted Thor as the man picked up the metal bar from the ground and laid it across the door, resting it in the metal brackets. It was a barrier. The room was being fitted as a place to lock someone up. My heart constricted. Would they be doing that to all the doors in the basement? Would I soon be locked into our windowless room?

I stared at the simple security devices, my mind racing, hardly realizing someone had called out loudly in German. But the soldier holding Zasha had heard and quickly placed her in my arms. The sound of footsteps filled the air and drew closer. I hoped no one heard me gasp or saw the look of recognition on my face before I was able to set it in a blank stare.

Not far from us were two guards and a prisoner, his hands tied behind his back. His hair was tousled, as if he’d been in a fight. The dark stains on the front of his shirt confirmed it; I’m sure they were dried blood. His lower lip looked like it had been split by a fist, and he didn’t seem all that steady on his feet. The guards spoke briefly with the soldiers who had been preparing the room. They lifted the metal bar off and opened the door. Just before the prisoner was escorted in, his hands were untied. He rubbed his wrists vigorously and glanced at me briefly before he walked into the room. I watched as the door was locked and the bar put in place, then took the dogs back to our room.

I stood there, breathing heavily, scared. The prisoner had recognized me. Somehow, I had to get to Petr and let him know that Josef was being held just feet from me.