‘They sent Lenke to the left,’ whispers Livi. ‘Is that good? Perhaps we should hold out our hands too.’
Cibi glances at her hands. A dirty bandage covers a wound on her index finger. She rips it off, dropping it onto the snow and then standing on it.
‘Leave your hands by your side. Stand tall. Look strong and healthy,’ Cibi hisses.
As the men come closer, Cibi feels faint. She struggles to control her breathing. In and out. In and out. Was this it? Was this the moment their fates were to be decided?
The officers pause in front of Livi, and Cibi can’t fault her for the way her sister throws back her shoulders and lifts her head. The men offer her a cursory glance before sending her off to the right.
Now Cibi waits. I will live, she thinks. I must live. Magda’s face flashes before her eyes, and then her father’s. The sisters will be reunited one day, she vows, and they will keep their pledge not only to survive, but to thrive. An officer pauses in front of Cibi. She swallows hard. He is taking his time to look her up and down. As he steps away, already turning to take in the next girl in the row, he flicks a hand to the right.
As Cibi and Livi gather with the other girls in the far right-hand corner of the assembly yard, they are still clueless as to which fate awaits them. Are they to be spared or are they headed for the gas chamber?
‘Why did you swap places with me?’ Livi asks.
Cibi stares at her feet in silence.
‘Cibi! Tell me why you wanted me to be inspected first?’ Livi insists.
‘I had to make a decision. That’s all,’ Cibi replies. ‘Please don’t ask me to explain.’
‘You have to tell me.’ Livi gestures at the courtyard, at the camp beyond, at the world. ‘We’re in this together. You have to tell me what you were thinking.’
After a long pause, Cibi meets Livi’s eyes. ‘If you were sent to the left then I would have followed you. That’s all. No matter where they sent me, I would follow you.’ Cibi’s eyes glisten with tears.
‘Even to your death? Is that what you’re saying?’ Livi gasps, eyes wide and wild.
‘Yes.’ Cibi nods, and the tears spill out of her eyes. ‘But I believe we’re safe. I believe we’ve been saved.’
‘And what if you were sent to the left, what was I supposed to do? Tell me, Cibi, what was I supposed to do?’
‘I would have made sure you were out of sight before I went to the left, that you wouldn’t see me and couldn’t follow.’
‘How could you? You made that decision for yourself! What about me, how do you think I could have gone on living if you were dead?’ Livi’s face is vivid with her anger.
‘I’m sorry, Livi. Please. I keep telling you, you are stronger than you think. If I die you must go on living. Someone has to be around for Magda. For Mumma and Grandfather.’
Several of the girls in their group listen to the conversation between the sisters. Many are weeping. Livi moves away from Cibi, unable to accept her sister would sacrifice her own life just so Livi wouldn’t have to die alone.
One of the girls puts an arm around Livi’s shoulder, hugging her tight. ‘I don’t have a sister to look after me, to make such a decision for me. She believes she is doing the best for you. And she is.’
Livi looks at Cibi, who is staring straight ahead.
The wind has picked up and snow is falling heavily once more. There are several blocks yet to be inspected, but the Nazi officers have had enough. They speak to the German officer before climbing into their car and driving off.
The girls continue to stand in the snow, watching as thousands of women to the left of the courtyard are marched to the gates of the women’s camp, where they are ordered to remove their shoes. The shoes form a mountain. The women are led, barefoot, down the path that leads towards the gas chamber.
Cibi was right, but it gives her no satisfaction. They had been saved. By Rita.
Finally, the German officer approaches Cibi and Livi’s group. She tells them they are to head to the sauna, and to take the path through the men’s camp on the other side of the road, which bisected Birkenau camp.
The girls march through the snow as the male prisoners stare at them. They don’t seem to even register them as women.
Arriving at the baths the girls are told to strip naked. Once again, they endure the humiliation of having their heads, armpits and crotches shorn of hair by male prisoners. Cibi stares at Livi; she is a skeleton wrapped in transparent skin. She runs her hands over her own ribcage, counting every single bone. If she is Livi’s mirror, then surely Livi is hers.