We Were the Lucky Ones

by Georgia Hunter

Home. Family. Nothing is more important. He knows that now.

What matters, she tells herself, is that even on the hardest days, when the grief is so heavy she can barely breathe, she must carry on. She must get up, get dressed, and go to work. She will take each day as it comes. She will keep moving.

What does it mean, she wonders, to live a day of her life without worry? Without a plan? Every minute of every day has been orchestrated, to the best of her ability, since the start of the war. Is she even capable, Mila wonders, of letting things unfold on their own?

Sol is right. It isn’t smart to stay in Poland. History repeats itself. This is one truth of which she is certain.