She took a step back. “Of course that’s not what I meant. Not at all.”
When he laughed, the sound was cruel. “No, Yona, your words were very clear. You’re our savior, and I should just close my mouth and be grateful.”
“That isn’t what I—”
“Well, I suppose you should go back to your shelter.” He’d said your shelter, not our shelter, and somehow this, more than everything else he’d said, felt like a blow. “It’s cold out, and since we apparently can’t survive without you, you should probably go rest up for all your future heroics.”
“Aleksander—”
But he was already moving away, trudging back into the black expanse of the forest, defending the group from dangers that might be lurking in the darkness.
But what about the danger they couldn’t see, the treacherous, icy water of their own decisions? Perhaps there was no protection against that.
* * *
“I’m sorry, Yona.” Aleksander’s words were soft, full of remorse, as he entered their shared zemlianka two hours later, his face red from the cold, snowflakes still clinging, frozen and resilient, to his lashes. Yona had already been to visit the other shelters, checking first on the newcomers, who were all grateful to have made it through another night, and then the original members of the camp, who were cramped but in decent spirits. Luba had a low fever and a cough, and Yona had returned to her own zemlianka, after a quick visit to the larder, with a handful of dried herbs to brew into a tea for her.
Yona didn’t reply now, because what was there to say? When a person apologized, you were supposed to pardon them, she knew. But she couldn’t do that here, because what Aleksander had wanted wasn’t right. There was nothing acceptable about allowing innocent people to go to their deaths because their presence didn’t suit your needs. That was what the people of Poland were helping the Nazis do to the Jews, wasn’t it?
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I was only thinking of the people I brought out of the ghetto myself, because I feel responsible for them.”
“I understand.” She looked down. “But now the others need you, too.”
“I know.” He was breathing hard as he took a step closer. “You have a big heart, Yona.”
But as he covered her mouth with his, as he pulled her to him, as he tugged off his overcoat and ran his frigid hands roughly up the front of her sweater, cupping her breasts with a low moan, she knew the words hadn’t been a compliment, and the knot in her stomach twisted tighter, even as she closed her eyes and kissed him back.
It was barely noon when Yona emerged from the shelter, followed by Aleksander. The sun was filtering through the heavy clouds, and Sulia was across the clearing, staring at Yona, her jaw tight, as she sorted berries. Before Yona could stop herself, she trudged across the snow. Despite the months Yona had spent with the group, Sulia still hadn’t warmed up to her. Perhaps it was time to try to change things.
“Can I help?” Yona asked, reaching for a handful of berries.
Sulia gave her a sideways look. “What, and dirty your hands with women’s work?”
Yona blinked a few times as she picked out a couple of berries that had withered and begun to grow mold. It was important to periodically remove the bad ones before they destroyed the rest. “You don’t like me,” she observed, keeping her voice low and even. She had never known this kind of venom before, and she didn’t understand it, though it reminded her a bit of the strange way Chana’s mother had reacted to her after Yona had helped heal her husband.
Sulia’s face turned pink as she ducked into her overcoat and busied herself with the berries, avoiding Yona’s eyes. “I like you just fine.”
“I—I don’t think you do.”
Sulia’s jaw flexed and relaxed a few times, and then, as suddenly as a shot, her head snapped up. “It’s just that you have no place here!” she exclaimed. “Who are you, anyhow? What kind of a person is raised in the woods with no human contact? It’s unnatural.”
Yona sat back on her heels. “I’m not—”
“I watch you sometimes with Aleksander, you know. The way you know how to talk to him, how to get him to do the things you want him to… I’m sorry, but you’re not normal, Yona. You’re up to something, and I won’t let it happen. Someone has to protect him, protect the group, even if you have everyone else fooled.”
Yona felt an unfamiliar tightness in her chest, a confusion. Her whole life had been straightforward, even her interactions with the perplexing Jerusza. Though the old woman had often gone about things in an infuriatingly roundabout way, she had never been anything but honest. Yona had always known where she stood, and why, even if she didn’t always like or agree with it. But this feeling was alien to her, this sense that she had to defend herself against wild, unfounded accusations. “I don’t—I don’t know what you mean, Sulia.”