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little moan with each exhalation.
    When they returned to the clearing, Magda went into the hut, and Hansel walked in behind her without knocking or begging. He just walked inside and Gretel followed. They put the wood on top of a pile near the huge stove that filled half the side of the hut.
    “Come on, Gretel.”
    They climbed on top of the sleeping platform and sat on the blankets laid out on the shelf above the great oven. Hansel had never seen such an enormous stove in anyone’s house. It was like the stove that bakers used. The warmth almost made the boy laugh, but he was too intent on disappearing from the witch’s mind so they could sit and be warm.
    Magda sat opposite them on the only chair, a wooden rocker with no cushion or comfort to it. The thump of her rocking and the moaning exhalation of the boy were the only sounds.
    We will sit and maybe the war will stop, Gretel thought. Someone will come and tell us that it’s over, and we’ll find Father, and go home, and live in our house, and it will be summer. She drooped into sleep.
    The door to the hut opened.
    “What’s this? What can you be thinking?” An old man stared at the children. “You have to get rid of them.”
    “You kill them. I’m too tired. You’re the priest.” Magda kept on rocking.
    “For God’s sake, don’t be crazy.” He was thin and white-haired with piercing eyes.
    Hansel stared at the man. He had seen priests on the street. This man didn’t wear the things that priests wore. He had on woolen pants and rough boots like a peasant. His coat was ragged at the cuffs and missing two buttons.
    “Go report me to your friend, the Major. That fine man.” Magda spit on the floor.
    The priest pulled a stool from under the table and sat. His head was lower than Magda’s. He did not look at the children.
    “You only survived by accident, Magda.”
    “And you also.”
    He was silent for a moment. “The fire in Warsaw—the birth records destroyed—was good luck. Your grandmother was whoever we said she was.”
    “My grandmother was one of the Rom. She never tried to steal land and kill people.”
    “They hate Gypsies more than Jews.”
    “She helped everyone.”
    “She was a thief. She killed babies. She spent six years in prison.”
    “She sent unborn babies back to God when no one would love them in this world. She only stole from those who were stupid and fat. The villagers would have helped her if they had been as Christian as they bragged. She saved them from their greed.”
    Hansel felt himself falling asleep. He had to stay awake. If they didn’t get food soon, he wouldn’t care about eating, and when the caring was gone, death would come.
    “I got you clean papers! All the money and trouble! And now you’ll be killed when they find these children. Give them one crust of bread, and you’ll die.”
    “We ate some bread.” Hansel spoke and his voice woke Gretel. “The witch didn’t want it. It was for the birds.”
    “No one comes here.” Magda rocked rhythmically. “Everyone stays away. Who’s to know?” She smiled at the man and he winced.
    “Children talk. They’ll make noise, and run, and play games. Children are the worst. They have no sense. They forget.” The man was sweating.
    “I don’t care anymore.”
    “You cared when you came running to me in a panic for false papers. And what about Nelka? She’s pregnant.”
    “Why do you talk to me about her? Everyone knows who should be taking care of her.”
    The man was silent and stared at the floor. Hansel forced himself to stay awake.
    “If you keep these Jews, they’ll kill her too. Pregnant or not. You’ll both be put on the trains or shot right here.”
    “You should know. You should know about the shooting in the forest.”
    “I didn’t shoot anyone,” he shouted. “I never killed anyone.”
    The shouting made Gretel come completely awake, and she stared at Magda, willing her to look back. Magda lifted her eyes and looked into the blue