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didn’t even look at the garment, “It is much nearer my size than the one I gave up. That one came above my knees.”
    Rachel put down her work and took Karlijna’s hands in her own.
    “Is is really as we are being told? Are they killing Jews?”
    Karlijna held pity in her heart for this woman who likely had friends and family still in Poland.
    “Yes, it is true.”
    “And,” she leaned closer to the girl, “they have killed hundreds, shooting them, beating them, starving them?”
    Karlijna knew the numbers were higher than hundreds. Thousands had been on those trains heading east. Each car was packed until the passengers could not stand. For days they travelled. On occasion, the train would stop, but the doors didn’t open. The women had no way to relieve themselves except within the confines of the train. There was no place to put the dead who could not wait for their destination to slip from life. The smell was overpowering; it flooded the senses, gripped the minds, and hardened every heart.
    Upon arriving at the camp, the women were greeted by smoky skies. At first, Karlijna had thought it was snowing. She learned the next day it was ashes. It took her a few more weeks to discover the source of those ashes.
    If every inch of those trains was packed with humanity, why were the barracks at the camp not more crowded? Where had those people gone? Everyone knew Auschwitz was the end of the line.
    Karlijna felt tears coming on , but she could not stop them. She nodded, “Yes, Rachel, hundreds of people die in those camps.”
    Rachel wiped tears from her own eyes, “And you have lost your family.”
    “Yes,” Karlijna shook her head to stop the images from creeping in.
    “Why?” Rachel knotted her fists together, “You are not a Jew.”
    Karlijna sighed deeply, “We hid the Jews.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    Nobody asked any more questions of Karlijna. She knew the family was aware of some of what she had gone through, but they must have realized how painful it was for her to talk of it. Whether they spoke of it behind her back, Karlijna never knew.
    Julius was home infrequently. Sometimes he would come home in the middle of the night, sleep all day and leave again as soon as dusk fell. Karlijna was never disappointed to avoid him. He seemed to be angry with her, just for the mere fact that she was a Gentile.
    One morning, a month after her arrival, Karlijna awoke to the sound of angry whispers.
    “I don’t care where she goes. That isn’t my concern,” Karlijna thought the voice belonged to Julius.
    “Be reasonable.  You’re passing judgment on someone just because – ” Maurice didn’t have an opportunity to finish.
    “If she doesn’t go, I will,” this time Karlijna was sure it was Julius.  “I’m not going to contribute money to a family who gives shelter to a Nazi.”
    Karlijna sat up, trying to block out the rest of the argument. There could be no doubt they were talking about her. She had no desire to be a wedge between Julius and his family, but where could she go. 
    Her options weren’t limited, they were non existent. Pastor Neilson was already housing two refugee families. She didn’t know many other people in the area. Most people she was acquainted with were refugees like herself and Jewish besides. Even if they had the means to support her, they regarded her with suspicion. 
    Karlijna rose and dressed. As quietly as possible, she cleaned her face and teeth.  She was considering what things she had acquired over the past month were hers for the taking when Rachel stepped into the room.
    “You’re up early, Karlijna,” her cheery tone belied the angry discussion she had just had with her son.
    Karlijna debated whether to tell the gracious lady she was going or to slip away later.
    “I guess you heard Julius.”
    Karlijna was glad the decision was taken from her, “Y es. I will leave as soon as possible.”
    Rachel grasped the young woman’s hands in h er own, “Oh, no, Karlijna, no.