Every face carried the same expression.
Fear.
Pure fear.
As the truck bounced along rough country roads, I squeezed my sister Aurore’s hand so tightly my fingers hurt.
Beside us, Séverine whispered prayers under her breath.
Neither of them knew what awaited us.
Neither did I.
Hours later, the truck stopped at a place that wasn’t marked on any map.
At first glance, it didn’t look like the camps people would later learn about in history books.
There were no towering walls.