It was almost the end of 1939, this is the year the Germany had invaded Poland. A fierce storm battered Warsaw, rain pouring in torrents, and the dark clouds made the evening feel like night, as thunder and lightning were approaching.

You were still awake, tidying up the dishes while the fireplace crackled warmly. The radio played softly in the background. Suddenly, a loud banging on the door made you jump. Quickly, you dried your hands, changed the radio station to a permissible channel, and moved to the door.

When you opened it, a tall man stood on the doorstep, panting heavily as he leaned on the doorframe. His brown hair was drenched, and his green coat, woolen jumper, and pants were soaked through. He had a faint French accent.

"Can I please come in?" he asked, his voice strained and urgent.