She wheezes very loudly, the only human sound in the wagon. Judy, the girl from Budapest with the injured shoulder, also sits upright, and seems wide awake. The two remaining sisters from the small Hungarian village huddle together, asleep. Her eyes seem enormous in the shadowy darkness of the car. She leans against the wall quite upright, staring ahead. Mommy sits propped against the wall in the corner, her head hanging to one side, her eyes half closed, her mouth wide open. My brother is lying with closed eyes, his head in Mommy’s lap. We have been in the cattle car a whole week, without food, without water. We roll with a steady, loud clatter amid high mountains and deep forests. Perhaps our guards no longer care whether we escape or not.
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