The cellar door was never replaced after the siege. Snow drifted in from the open courtyard, and a thin layer of white stuff mixed with coal dust made for a strong odor like an ash-pit after a rain. The cavernous dank walls reeked of death, and Ilona was certain she would find the bodies frozen, but she kept going in spite of the smell. The feeble bulb overhead was just enough to make her shadow leap dizzily when she took the smallest step. But she didn’t care. She headed straight for the heap of blankets and winter coats motionless in the corner.
Ilona’s heart pounded in her chest. She heard a moan under the pile. Tánti had swaddled Attila to herself the way it had been done during the siege. They were a mummified bundle of felt. Only the eyes shown. No place to kiss them. Ilona gathered
