Bertie paused outside what was once her family’s apartment building, the door hanging from its hinges and the walls scarred by bullet holes. Inside, shattered dishes and torn books were scattered across the floor. She stepped carefully over a broken menorah, her gaze fixed on a faded photograph half-buried in dust. The silence pressed in, almost suffocating in its weight.
Irena blinked against the sudden brightness, her heart pounding. She moved quietly through the abandoned house, lingering in the empty kitchen where laughter once filled the air. Outside, the world seemed changed, familiar streets now haunted by absence. She wandered past shuttered shops, the Star of David still faintly visible on the crumbling synagogue’s door.
Bertie hesitated in the center of the square, clutching the photograph. Irena stopped a few steps away, her eyes meeting Bertie’s with cautious recognition—two survivors, alone among ghosts. "Do you remember when this fountain ran with water?" "I remember the music on Saturdays. Now, it’s so quiet." Their voices were soft, uncertain, but in that moment, a fragile connection formed.
Bertie and Irena arrived together, their few belongings bundled under their arms. Inside the camp, the air buzzed with many languages, the faces around them etched with the same bewilderment and grief. "Do you think we’ll ever feel at home again?" "Maybe if we remember who we are. Maybe if we remember together." That night, they joined others in lighting candles, the glow flickering against the canvas walls.
Bertie and Irena recited the blessings softly, their voices growing stronger with each word. Laughter returned, tentative at first but growing as children played nearby and elders recounted memories of festivals long past. "You’re my family now," "And you are mine. We survived for a reason. We have to keep our stories alive."
Bertie and Irena stood side by side, tickets to America clutched tightly. The city faded behind them as the train began to move, their hopes and fears colliding with every rattling turn of the wheels. "What will we find there?" "A new world. And in it, we’ll make a new home—together." As the countryside rolled past, the two friends leaned into the future, carrying the light of their traditions and the strength of their newfound family across the ocean.
