Shimon Sokolowski had drawn a detailed map to the location where he’d been told the Bielski group had made camp, but he had declined to join the group on the southern route; he wanted to stay with his son and his pregnant wife.
Zus approached from across the clearing and put a hand on Yona’s shoulder. “Would you take a walk with me?” he asked in her ear, and she nodded. She glanced once more around the camp, where everyone was milling around, anxious, in motion. There was a frisson of excitement, of anxiety, in the air. As she turned and walked toward the woods with Zus, she could feel eyes on them, and when she turned, she saw Aleksander standing still, watching. She looked away.
“Yona,” Zus began once they were alone, deep enough into the trees that no one could see them. “There is something I must say to you.”
His voice caught, and when she looked up at him, she was surprised to see that he looked uneasy. Did he have doubts about the plan? “What is it, Zus?”
“I—I regretted not saying something to you before you left last month.”
“Zus…” She opened her mouth to tell him that whatever it was could wait, that she knew she would see him again in a few days’ time, once they’d reunited on the island deep in the swamp, but there was something in his gaze that stopped her.
“Yona, you see yourself through a different looking glass than we see you, perhaps because you’ve been alone for so long.” His words fell quickly, as if he was trying to force them out before he could change his mind. “I just want you to know, in case we are separated, that I think you are extraordinary.”
“Zus—”
He held up a hand to stop her, his voice deepening. “Perhaps you still love Aleksander. But I—I wish my own heart was not so broken, Yona, because if it was whole, I think I would fight for you. I would tell you that I refuse to let you go, that I will not let you disappear into that forest without me ever again. But I don’t think I am capable of that, of all that comes with those kinds of feelings. And perhaps you don’t want to hear these things anyhow, so I will simply tell you good luck. And I wanted you to know, in case we do not see each other again, that I think you are far more special than you seem to see.”
His eyes didn’t leave hers as he waited for a reply, and in the quiet between them, she could hear them both breathing heavily. “We will see each other again,” she said at last. “We will reunite in the swamp in a few days, and then the Germans will retreat, and we will find our way back here together.”
He held her gaze. “I pray to God you’re right.”
“May I say something, too?” She hesitated, fighting the urge to look away from him. “I don’t know much about these things. But I think that broken hearts heal. I think that perhaps the only way through that kind of pain is to move forward. I think that losing people you love changes you forever, but I think that God finds a way to let the light in.”
He blinked a few times and nodded. “Perhaps,” he said. He hesitated for only a second more before stepping closer and kissing her once, gently, on her right cheek, his warm lips lingering there for a long time. By the time she opened her eyes, he was already walking away, back to the camp, back to the forest that lay before them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Yona had been to the swamp only once—with Jerusza, in that strange summer of 1941—and as she walked through the forest now, deeper and deeper into the darkness, she wondered if Jerusza had taken her there because she saw this moment coming. But if she had seen the world descending into madness, why hadn’t she warned Yona? Why hadn’t she told her that in two years’ time, she would need to help lead a group of innocent people into the forest’s invisible heart to save their lives?
Yona walked ahead while the rest of her small group followed slowly behind her, Oscher doing the best he could with his limp to keep up, Bina beside him for support, Rosalia bringing up the rear several paces back, a gun over her shoulder as she silently scanned the forest. Yona was glad that Zus had suggested that Rosalia accompany Yona’s group; Yona trusted her more than anyone else in the camp except for Zus himself, and she felt safer knowing that she was there. Chaim, Leonid Gulnik, and Shimon Sokolowski each carried a gun, too; the two new families had each arrived with one.
As she led the group deeper into the dark woods, Yona found herself thinking about Zus and the things she should have said before they parted ways. He had told her that she was more special than she could see, but why had she missed the opportunity to tell him the same? After all, it was Zus she had thought of during her long walk back from the village, and it was his voice, his words, that had led her home. The way he commanded the respect of the others, through his gentle compassion, was something that moved her, but she didn’t know how to put it into words. Now, though, the things she’d left unsaid tugged at her heart.