The first chapter of Tova Friedman’s memoir begins near the end of her captivity; she was six years old on January 25, 1945. Confused, young Tola (the author’s birth name) heard terrifying noises outside her barracks, which was filled with other children, and didn't know what to do. Gunfire made her recall the various ways she had watched people die when they had been shot; gurgling was the worst.

Outside the walls of her barracks, the voices of the German guards sounded even more bitter than normal. Tola believed that this part of the war must be different from the war she had personally experienced, where “well-fed” men trampled the elderly and women and then shot them in the back, and where the remains of children flew out of chimneys in “tiny, charred flakes.”

One of the youngest children in the camp, Tola had been living with other children, some of them almost teenagers. They were all dirty with sunken eyes, the result of exhaustion and starvation. None of the children had any idea what was happening, but the typical order of the day had definitely been disrupted.

When the door to the barracks opened, all of the children jumped. The woman standing there, whom Tola didn’t recognize, had features which were “distorted by malnutrition.” The woman looked directly at Tola and called her by name. Tola realized that the woman sounded like her mother but didn’t believe that the form standing before her could possibly be the same person. Smiling, the woman assured young Tola that she was her mother and then shifted to a somber mood. The guards were gathering up people and forcing them to walk hundreds of miles to Germany. Her mother’s feet were bandaged, and she informed Tola that she would never be able to make the journey and would be shot. She urged Tola to quickly leave with her so that they could try to hide from the soldiers and added that if they died, they would “die . . . together.”

With her mother gripping her hand, Tola was led through the camp, carefully hiding behind buildings as they made their way to the women’s infirmary. Once inside, Mama made her way from bed to bed, checking for signs of life. She finally found a corpse that was still warm and told Tola that she needed to climb into this bed, curl herself around the body, and lie very still. She was not to move until her mother returned. Tola indicated that she understood these directions. Once Tola had positioned her body around the corpse, Mama covered the body with a blanket, leaving the deceased woman’s head showing. Tola was not afraid; she believed the woman was her “protector” and might save her life.

As drowsiness began to overtake her, Tola heard the sounds of boots.