“You’re not one of us, Yona, and sooner or later, Aleksander will notice it, too. You act like a man, like you think you’re better than me, than the other women. But you’re not. And there’s something else. I don’t care who raised you. You’re not like us. You call yourself a Jew, but ours is a religion that passes by blood or tradition—and you have no claim to either.”
“Sulia, I—”
But Sulia was already standing, brushing the snow off her hands. She turned her back and trudged toward her zemlianka without another word.
Yona stood, her fingertips blooming red with berry stain as she closed her hands into fists. Did everyone in the camp feel the same way? She’d done nothing but try to offer her knowledge, her skills for survival.
She was still standing there, staring after Sulia, when Zus approached, trudging in from the woods to the east. “There you are,” he said, his voice deep, warm. His stride was confident and long, and the way he carried himself reminded her of a mountain lion, proud and strong and sure. “I’ve been looking for you.”
She turned, still a bit dazed, and tried to smile. “Zus.”
He searched her eyes as he came up beside her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, already feeling foolish. She had nothing to regret, nothing to be ashamed of. “Yes, yes, of course.” She coughed and bent to grab the basket of berries Sulia had huffed off without. They’d need to be returned to the larder. She began walking in that direction, and Zus fell into step beside her.
“What is it?” Zus asked after a minute had passed. “You’re not yourself.”
Yona might have smiled if she hadn’t been so upset. How did he already see her so clearly? “It’s nothing.” But when she glanced at him, she could see that he didn’t believe her. “It’s Sulia,” she amended after a pause. “She said something about me not belonging. I—I don’t understand why she seems to dislike me so much.”
“She’s jealous of you.” Zus’s reply was so immediate and matter-of-fact that it made her stumble. He caught her elbow with a smile, righting her.
“Jealous? What could she possibly be jealous of?”
He looked down at her, amused, and they both seemed to notice at the same time that his fingertips were still on her arm. He hastily pulled away. “Well, your relationship with Aleksander, if I had to guess.”
Now Yona stopped in her tracks. “What?”
Zus looked as confused as she felt. “Do you honestly not see it? The way she acts around him?”
Yona blinked a few times. “She is friendly, I suppose.”
Zus laughed. “Well, that’s one word for it.” He glanced at her and sobered as she continued to look at him blankly.
As they walked in silence for a moment, Yona’s mind spun. Falling together with Aleksander had simply happened. How could anyone begrudge her something that felt so natural? After all, if Sulia and Aleksander had had similar feelings for each other, wouldn’t they have been drawn together in the same way before they met Yona? None of it made any sense, and Yona’s frustration mounted; how was it that she was so easily able to survive but so confused when it came to what should have felt like a basic social interaction? She shook her head and sighed. “You said you were looking for me?”
“Oh, yes.” He hesitated. “It’s actually about Aleksander. He’s the one in charge of the group, yes?”
Yona nodded. He was certainly the de facto leader, the one who made the decisions, though Sulia’s accusations about Yona controlling him still rang in her ears. “He is. He led them out of the ghetto. They trust him.”
“Good. That’s good. I was thinking that perhaps I should meet with him, man to man, to discuss what we shall do for the remainder of the winter. I know we’re a burden on all of you.”
“You’re not a burden.”
His smile was weary. “Of course we are.” He hesitated. “Can I ask you something?”
Yona nodded.
“You didn’t come out of the ghetto with them, did you?”
She shook her head, but suddenly she felt exhausted. Was Zus, too, here to point out that she didn’t belong? “Is it that obvious? I—I thought that they had become like my family. But now I think perhaps I was only seeing what I wanted to see.”
He reached for the basket of berries, wordlessly offering to carry it for her as they trudged through the snow toward the larder. “All of us are family,” he said after a few minutes. “I don’t think the details matter.”