The worst part was the fence. Taller than any of us, and made of sharp wire, it enclosed the entire camp and cast a spindly shadow across everything. It made me feel like an animal. Caged in.

We didn’t have to wear our stars anymore. This should have been a comfort, but it was not.

No one here bothers to learn the others’ names. We know that we are here for one reason, and that is not to work. No, it is to die.

Every night, I tuck Anna in before curling up with the baby. “Judith?” She asks, tucking her damp hand into mine. “When do we get to go home?”

This is when I decide. I wrap the baby in my shawl, and tie it securely to my back. “We’re going to climb the fence,” I tell her.

As we approach, gunshots fire from behind.

I pull Anna, but as I watch, a red flower blooms from the front of her dress, and my little sister falls to the ground. Tears stream from my eyes, but I do not, I can not, stop.

With the baby born to me from the Nazi who hurt me, I ascend.

I do not know what waits on the other side.