In the middle of the road, the child stood wearing a blue flannel nightie, her feet bare and dirt-splattered. Her blonde flyaway hair was golden, aglow from the fires that lit her up from behind. Stumbling over, Lizzie reached her side. The little girl's eyes were closed, her palms facing upwards. If she'd been in church, you would have thought she was praying.
September 1940, London
As the German...