Her thin, frail hand shook as it dragged the coverlet up to her granddaughter’s chin. It paused for a moment to rest gently on the young girl’s feverish forehead. Her lips, wrinkled …show more content…
Chana would have lost track of the time if she hadn’t been marking the days on the post of her bunk. Each night before she went to sleep, Chana took a small blade she had stolen from the factory and cut a notch into the post by her bunk.
Throughout the time that they were there, the sick and the weak were constantly being replaced with new arrivals. When someone got sick or collapsed during work, they would disappear the next day and a new face would take their spot. Chana wondered whose place she had taken.
It was about four months into their imprisonment that Maya fell ill. The night had been the harshest yet, and many women had awoken to frostbitten feet. In the morning, Chana had reached out her arm to shake Maya awake and found her friend sweating and shivering.
“Maya?” she whispered. The other girl merely coughed and rolled over with a groan. “Maya, you have to wake up. Don’t go back to sleep or they might take you away.”
Maya shook her head and beckoned Chana closer. Chana leaned in to hear what Maya wanted to say.
“Chana,” Maya choked, “no matter what happens to me, you must live. You must live to tell both of our stories, along with everyone else who died. Promise me that you’ll live to do …show more content…
Dangling from the string was a perfect, heart-shaped locket. It was made of metal, with intricate designs etched over it. Chana gasped.
“It was my grandmother’s gift to me,” Maya whispered, smiling slightly. “I hid it in my hand when we were told to undress and leave our belongings behind. I just couldn’t let this go, so I hid it. Now I want you to have it.” She tied the string around the back of Chana’s neck and then slumped back, her breathing labored.
“Now go to work, little Chana,” Maya breathed and closed her eyes. “I will follow you as soon as I can.” Chana nodded her head and slid quietly from the bunk. She ran out of the barracks, worry clouding her mind.
Every so often during that day, Chana would touch the pendent hanging at her neck. It dangled on the strand, safely tucked underneath her filthy tunic. Chana could not stop thinking about Maya. Each time the door opened and the Beast walked in, Chana would glance up from her work to see if it was her friend. But Maya never showed