“But then won’t more people die?”
The nun’s eyes filled with tears. “People will die either way. I am hopeful, though, that fewer of those deaths will be in vain.”
Yona touched Sister Maria Andrzeja’s arm. “There must be another way.”
“There is not. We came here to help the people in this town, to help save as many as we could, to remind them that God always loves them. God has finally given us an answer about the role we are meant to play in all of this. The Nazis need someone to make an example of. Who better than us, if our eight lives can spare a hundred? It is the path God has given us.”
“But…”
“Remember, Yona? Whoever saves a life, it is considered as if he saved an entire world.”
Yona sat back on her heels and stared, first at Sister Maria Andrzeja, then at the others. She could see the determination in their eyes, but there was fear there, too. “I won’t let it happen,” Yona said. “What if God sent me here to save you?”
Sister Maria Andrzeja waited until Yona looked back and met her gaze. “Or perhaps we are meant to save you by reminding you of your goodness, of your responsibility to your fellow man.”
“But—”
“We accept our fate. All of us. You must do the same.” A single tear rolled down the nun’s cheek, disappearing into the wound that stretched from her nose to her ear. “Never forget, Yona, God is your father, and he is always with you.”
Yona’s own eyes filled, too. She didn’t say anything. Jerusza had always taught her that the forest was her parent, both mother and father, and what was the forest but God’s creation, anyhow? Perhaps even when Yona had felt most alone, she’d always been surrounded by a father who loved her just as she was.
“And the little girl?” Sister Maria Andrzeja asked after a moment, lowering her voice to a whisper. “She is safe?”
“She is.”
Sister Maria Andrzeja closed her eyes briefly. “Praise God.” She turned her gaze back to Yona. “Thank you, Yona. You have been brave and kind, but it’s time now for you to go. Leave us to our fate. We all accept it.”
Yona glanced at the other nuns. Some were watching her, some had their eyes closed and appeared to be praying. “But you mustn’t give up. I will do all I can to help. I will talk to Jüttner. My… my father.”
The nun’s smile was sad, and she didn’t meet Yona’s gaze. “False hope is dangerous, Yona. They cannot release us now. Remember, a trade was made. Our lives for a hundred. If the Germans allow us to live, someone will have to pay.”
“There must be a—”
“Inge!” Jüttner’s impatient voice boomed from behind her, and she turned to find Jüttner watching her. The other officer had stepped away and was halfway down the aisle, his stiff back turned to them, his hands balled into fists.
“Shall we go now?” he asked Yona, his tone almost jaunty, as if he’d entirely forgotten that there were eight hostages nearby.
Yona glanced back once more at Sister Maria Andrzeja, but the nun’s eyes were closed, her lips moving, and somehow, Yona knew the nun was praying for her, which was wrong, undeserved.
“Come on, then,” Jüttner said with a sharp edge of impatience, and before Yona could reply, his hand was on her arm and he was leading her away.
“Yes, good day, German daughter,” the other officer said as they passed, and Yona could hear the sarcasm lacing his words, the annoyance. Jüttner nodded at the other officer, who nodded back, and then pulled Yona with him out into the sunshine outside the church.
* * *
“Can’t you order their release?” Yona asked as she and Jüttner walked home from the church.
“It isn’t that simple.” He didn’t look at her.
She thought of what Sister Maria Andrzeja had said. “Because you would have to execute a hundred townspeople if you released them,” she said flatly.
He nodded slowly. “It was the nuns themselves who came to us with this bargain. You are trying to save people who do not want to be saved.”
“We all want to be saved.”
He glanced at her. “Some must sacrifice for the greater good.”
Yona swallowed the lump in her throat. “So you intend to kill them after all?”
“I know this matters to you. But I don’t know what to do.” He looked down at her as they turned a corner. The circles beneath his eyes were pronounced, his forehead creased with fatigue. “You must understand that I am merely a cog in a wheel, Inge.”