Page 118 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

forest. And remembered she had told them stories. But
the stories—those she could not remember, and it both-
ered her that she could not.
She'd seen men running to get into a line behind them
during the first moments of the assembly, but she hadn't
dared turn around then. Even now she was afraid to
look. Would Shmuel be there? Yitzchak? Would Rabbi
Boruch, the badchan, the members of the klezmer band?
Would Mr. Unsward?
"Gitl," she whispered out of the side of her mouth,
low enough so that the woman in blue couldn't hear
her. "Gitl."
Gitl touched her hand. "Chaya," she whispered back,
so fiercely, it sounded like a promise. Or a command.

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