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accidentally call me Laura, or say that your name is Selma, then the game is over and people will hurt us, or take us away. You don’t want that to happen, do you, Zofia?” Laura said.
    “No, Mama.”
    “What’s your name, little girl? What do you say from now on when anybody asks you? What do you say?”
    “I’m Zofia.”
    “Zofia who?”
    “Zofia Tymejko.”
    “That’s right. And your birthday is July twenty-seventh.”
    “It’s September second, Mama.”
    “No, that was Selma’s birthday. Zofia’s birthday is July twenty-seventh. See?” She showed her the birth certificate. “See? And what is my name?”
    “I don’t like this game.”
    “It doesn’t matter, Zofia.”
    “I want to be Selma.”
    “We must play it all the time now or something bad will surely happen to us.”
    “Why? Why does everyone want to hurt us?”
    “That I will explain to you when you are a little older, Zofia. But just now they want to hurt people named Schwarzwald and Litwak, so you are never to say those names. What’s your name, little girl?”
    “My name is Zofia Tymejko and I was born on July twenty-seventh and I am five years old.”
    “How old will you be next July twenty-seventh?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Of course you do, Zofia. You’re five years old, so on your next birthday on July twenty-seventh, you will be how old?”
    “Six.”
    “Excellent. Now, Zosia, what are the three divine virtues?”
    “Faith, hope, and love.”
    She kissed Zofia’s forehead again. “You’re so smart, Zosia. And don’t talk to anyone. You understand?”
    “Yes, Bronislawa Tymejko.”
    Laura smiled. “But to you, it’s still Mama.”
    “Yes, Mama.”
    Poor Zula, Laura thought. Her daughter was a blessing and a curse. She was the only reason to live, but for her to survive she was going to have to erase her only child’s identity, and destroy who knows what else?
    On September 6, 1942, Laura washed and brushed Selma’s blond hair and fixed it with a white bow. They both put on their best clothes. With only one small suitcase each and their false documents, they set out on foot for the train station. Just before they walked out of the ghetto, Laura removed her and her daughter’s armbands with the Star of David. The trick was to look like they’d just been visiting the ghetto, doing business. Once through the gate, they strode into Christian Lvov, trying to look as little like Jews as possible. This meant walking past the German guards as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She had hired a Pole named Julek to have the rest of their luggage shipped ahead to Kraków, to escort them there, and to collect their luggage in Kraków and help them find a room. He joined them at the appointed street corner and walked silently next to them to the train station, smoking a cigarette. Most of the way there, Laura held her breath.
    To everyone in the world but themselves, they were now Bronislawa and Zofia Tymejko.
    Once they were settled on the horsehair seats and the train was moving, Laura repeated her strict instructions that Zofia not talk to strangers, to let her answer all questions. When it was necessary to speak, she told Zofia to speak only Polish. Her mother sometimes spoke German too, and Zofia knew many German words.
    Once out of the ghetto, Laura felt an unfamiliar surge of hope and permitted herself the thought that maybe her daughter might even go on to have children of her own one day to say Kaddish for all of them. But the hope didn’t last long. On the train Julek sat in another row and pretended not to know her and Zofia, and Laura wondered—why not wonder in a world where children could betray their own parents?—if he was planning to turn them in. After all, he already had their money.
    The trip ended without incident. Julek didn’t denounce them. However, he disappeared with the tickets for their luggage, and presumably the luggage too, leaving Laura and Zofia to find lodging for themselves.