Three Sisters (The Tattooist of Auschwitz, #3)

by Heather Morris

Their former friends and neighbours are hurling rotten fruit and stale bread at their heads, yelling their joy that the Jews are finally leaving.

They have had to help carry dead girls back to Auschwitz, at the end of a long hard, harrowing day.

They are prisoners, treated like animals, their lives worth nothing. This ‘freedom’ means only death.

It must take a certain type of courage to wake up every morning and just carry on.’

how do you embrace the future with an open heart when that same heart has been broken over and over again, the shards of it hammered into dust?

‘We owe it to those who died to live our best lives, become our best selves, and here we can.’

That we shouldn’t look at each day as a series of tasks we have to get through, but to see each twenty-four hours as a gift from God and cherish individual moments.’

‘You are my victory. My family is my victory.’