“Your beau?”
Ruby smiled. “No. There is a man, but . . .” She trailed off and shook her head. How could she explain Thomas to anyone? It all still felt like a dream to her, like he’d never been real at all. “No, Nadia, I was thinking of a girl who’s very important to me. Her parents left her with me two years ago, when they were taken, and she’s become like a sister to me. Maybe a daughter, even. I worry about her every day.”
“And there is someone hiding her?”
“There is a boy looking out for her. He’s only sixteen, but he loves her.”
Nadia’s expression softened. “How extraordinary to find love in the midst of war.”
Ruby nodded, again thinking of Thomas. “Extraordinary indeed.”
“She will be all right, then.”
Ruby had to laugh at the certainty in her friend’s voice. “I wish I had your optimism. You seem so sure about the future.”
A guard passed by then, glaring at them, and Ruby pretended to be deeply absorbed in her work. When he was gone, Nadia nudged her. “I am not sure of anything. But if we don’t have hope, we don’t have anything.”
“I wish I had your hope, then.”
“You do,” Nadia said. At Ruby’s confused expression, she smiled. “That is what my name means. Hope. So as long as you have Nadia, you have hope.”
Ruby smiled. It was a nice thought, the idea that hope itself could be embodied in a person. She was silent for a moment as another guard passed by. “Herr Hartmann has offered to send a letter home to my parents for me. You don’t think it’s a trap, do you?”
Nadia bit her lip. “No, I do not. I think he is a good man who feels terrible about the things that are happening to us.”
“Then why doesn’t he do something to stop it?”
“You don’t think he wants to? You don’t think there are many Germans who want to? I think that in a place like this, the system itself has grown so huge that it’s impossible to stop. Like a snowball that starts at the top of a mountain and has turned into a boulder by the time it reaches the bottom. I think, though, that there are people like Herr Hartmann trying to make a difference on a smaller level, with people like us. I think you can trust him.”
“So do I.”
Later that afternoon, Ruby passed by Herr Hartmann in the corner of the factory and slipped him the letter. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“It is the least I can do, Ruby,” he said gravely. “None of you should have to endure this.”
“But how can you stand to work for the Gestapo? To run an assembly line that produces weapons for the Nazis?”
He frowned, and for a moment, she was sure she had overstepped her bounds. But after a pause, he shook his head. “I manage just enough breakdowns in the assembly line that I slow the production of weapons. It’s not much, Ruby, but it’s something. We all must do what we can, don’t you think? It is the only way good has a chance of winning in the end.”
BY MID-AUGUST, RUBY HAD HEARD that prisoners who could no longer pull their weight were being killed immediately, their bodies cremated in enormous furnaces that sent cruel clouds of black smoke belching into the sky. The smell of burning flesh lingered in the air.
Ruby was nearly eight months pregnant, but she didn’t look that way. Her belly was half the size it had been during her first pregnancy. She was only five or six weeks away from being full-term, and yet if she stood just the right way, the cotton of her loose dress skimmed the air, keeping her secret safe. The guards at the factory were distracted much of the time anyhow, and they didn’t seem to be as focused on abusing the prisoners as the guards inside the camp had been.
Death no longer lurked around the corner quite as hungrily as it had when Ruby had worked inside the main camp. But at the same time, falling ill would land a prisoner back inside the gates, and if you remained in the hospital block for too long, the rumor was that you were sent directly to your death. That’s what had happened to Denise, a young, quiet French girl who worked several stations down from Ruby on the assembly line. One day, she’d been coughing; the next, she was gone. It had taken a week before word came back that she’d been diagnosed with rheumatic fever and condemned to die. The factory workers had held a secret moment of silence for her on Tuesday, and by the end of that day, Ruby was horrified to realize that she, too, had a nagging tickle in her throat.
“I think I might be getting ill,” she said to Nadia that night as they settled down to sleep. Her throat was raw and scratchy, and she could feel herself beginning to perspire.
Nadia put a cool hand on her forehead. “Ruby, you’re burning up.”
“Fever?”
Nadia nodded, her expression grave.
Ruby struggled upright. “But I can’t be sick. My illness could hurt the baby.”
Nadia frowned. “I am more concerned about what will happen if they bring you to the hospital block. They certainly won’t miss your pregnancy this time.” She was silent for a moment. “You must tell Herr Hartmann.”
“What?”
“You must tell him,” Nadia said more insistently. “He has helped you before, Ruby. He will not let you die.”
“But what can he do?” Ruby was crying now. She’d been strong for such a long time, but she was suddenly so tired. She felt the heat of her fever surge within her.
“I don’t know. But I think it is your only chance.”
The next morning, Ruby felt even worse. Her face was hot, and the world seemed to be spinning. Before she left the barracks, she put her hands on her belly and whispered a prayer. “I don’t know if you can hear me, God, but please, save my baby.” She bit back tears, splashed water on her face, and headed out to roll call, praying that the guards wouldn’t notice her illness.
Fortunately, they didn’t, but that meant only a brief reprieve. Ruby could tell, as the morning wore on, that she was getting worse. Her hands shook as she tried to piece together electrical parts, and she could feel sweat dripping from her brow. Her mouth was dry, so dry, and she thought that if she dared close her eyes, she might never open them again.
“You must go to Herr Hartmann now,” Nadia whispered as midday approached. “You have no choice, Ruby. The guards will notice your condition very soon if you do not.”
“It is my only option?” Ruby asked.
Nadia nodded. “I think so, yes.”
And so Ruby rose shakily after the next time the guard walked by, and she made her way toward the back corner of the building, where she’d seen Herr Hartmann heading a few minutes earlier. It was a struggle to walk straight without leaning into the wall. She had to concentrate hard so that the floor in front of her didn’t reach up to drag her down. By some miracle, she found Herr Hartmann alone, going over several pages of notes with a furrowed brow. He looked up when she approached. “Ruby!” he said, smiling. But his expression quickly turned as she stumbled forward. “My God,” he said, reaching out a hand to steady her. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m ill,” she whispered.
“Yes, that much is clear. The guards haven’t noticed yet?”
“No. But I’m afraid I might not have much time.”
He was still holding her arm. “And what will happen? They will send you to the hospital block?”
She took a deep breath, which made her cough. It was time to tell him the truth. “Herr Hartmann, I am pregnant.”
He glanced at her belly and then up at her face again, a deep well of sympathy in his eyes. “Yes, I know.”
“You do?”
“I could see it the day I hired you, Ruby. How far along are you?”
She coughed again. “Nearly eight months.”
His eyes widened. “I thought perhaps four or five.”
She shook her head. “We are starving, Herr Hartmann. It’s a miracle my baby is still alive.”
“A miracle indeed.” He studied her. “And if you go to the hospital block and they realize you’re pregnant . . . ?”