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can’t seriously expect us to do this,” he said to Krys, his voice low but steely. “This sewer is everything to us, the only shelter we have.”

“I know,” Krys replied. “And I wouldn’t ask if there were any other option. But it’s only for the night.”

Krys pulled the sewer cover back and pushed the edge of the first crate toward it. “Stand back,” Saul instructed Sadie as he tried to help Krys from below. The crate slipped and fell into the sewer with a crashing sound that reverberated loudly on the street above. I braced, praying that the munitions were stable and would not detonate or explode from the impact. Then I looked around nervously. Anyone who was within a block’s radius would surely have heard the sound. Krys put his hand on my shoulder and we listened in silence for footsteps. But the street remained still. A few seconds later, Krys eased the second crate down to Saul, who placed it gently in the tunnel.

“You don’t have to take them all the way in,” Krys said. “Just inside the tunnel out of sight.”

“Should we stand watch and guard them?” Saul asked.

“That isn’t necessary. No one knows that we’ve got them—or that we would ever hide them here.” It was impossible for most people to imagine hiding things in the sewer, I thought, much less people. Krys threw down a tarp. “You can cover the crates with this and leave them where they are for the night. Someone will be here to collect them before sunrise.”

“Someone?” I demanded of Krys, turning to him. “Not you?”

“Me, if I can. If not, one of my men who can be trusted.” He took both of my hands in his. “I would never do anything to endanger Sadie—or you.” He looked deep into my eyes, willing me to believe him.

How could I possibly, after what he was doing now? “You already have,” I said, pulling away. I walked over to the grate. I could barely see Sadie around the two bulky crates that filled most of the entranceway to the sewer. “Sadie?”

“I’m here.” Her voice sounded muffled and, despite the fact that she had insisted on helping, more than a little afraid.

“You don’t have to do this. You can still change your mind,” I said, though in truth I didn’t know how. The crates would be nearly impossible to lift from the sewer and I wondered how Krys was planning to manage it in the morning.

“I’ll be fine, Ella. I can do this.” In the distance, a police siren wailed. “You should go home now. It’s dangerous for you to stay so long on the street.” Even now, Sadie was worried about me.

“She’s right,” Krys interjected as the siren seemed to grow closer. “We should go.”

Heedless, I lingered. I could hardly bear to leave Sadie in such awful circumstances. But there was no other choice. “I will be back at first light,” I promised, certain that in leaving her, I was making the worst mistake of my life.

22

Sadie

When Ella and Krys had disappeared above the sewer grate, I turned to Saul. “What now?”

“Go back to the chamber and sleep, I suppose. Krys said we don’t need to stand guard.”

“I’m not sleepy,” I said. It was hard to imagine simply leaving the munitions sitting in the tunnel and going to bed, as if none of this had happened.

“Me either. Shall we go read?”

“I suppose.” We started in the direction of the annex. I pulled out the book I had been reading, but Saul stared off into space. “What is it?” I asked.

“I’m fine.” He brushed at his eye, then waved his hand as if flicking something away. “Nothing. It’s just that so much has happened the past few weeks. First losing Bubbe. Now this.” Tears flowed down his cheeks. I moved closer, desperate to comfort him.

“I know it’s hard,” I said, moving closer. “I’m so sorry.”

He wiped his face with his sleeve. “You must think me a great fool, a grown man crying about his grandmother. She had a long life, and a great deal more time than my brother and so many people are getting now. And dying in her sleep, that was a blessing, really. She raised us like her own sons, though, after my mother died. She was there my whole life.”

I wanted to put my arms around him, but it didn’t seem right, so I laced my fingers with his. “I understand.” There had been so much loss, so much death. Bubbe had been difficult at times, to be sure, but our families had become one and I, too, felt the pain of losing her. With so little left, each loss was a grievous wound, a gaping hole in the very foundation beneath our feet.

Saul stopped crying. Still, he did not take out his book, but stared off into the distance. “Are you all right?” I asked. I wondered if he was thinking about his grandmother or the munitions, or something else entirely.

He turned to me suddenly, took my hand. “Marry me, Sadie,” he said. I was too surprised to answer. I had not imagined his feelings were so strong. But he was staring deeply into my eyes now, his gaze purposeful and sincere. “I want you to be my wife. I love you.”

“And I love you.” I had known it for the longest time, but saying the words made it feel more true. “When we get out of here—”

“Not someday,” he said, cutting me off. “I don’t want to wait. I want to marry you now.”

“I don’t understand. Such a thing isn’t possible.”

“It is. Jewish law does not require a rabbi, just someone who is knowledgeable about the rituals and requirements. My father can marry us.” He spoke more quickly now, gaining momentum behind his words. “I know I should be asking your mother for permission,” he added apologetically. “I wish I could. What do you think, Sadie?” He searched my face, eyes hopeful.

I did not answer right away,

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