There’s a moment in Elie Wiesel’s “Night” that seared itself into Rachel Linsky’s consciousness in the spring of 2020. Wiesel and his family have just arrived at Auschwitz. Twice, Wiesel and his father move to the left, first away from his mother and sisters and then toward an unknown fate: either the crematoria or the barracks. Convinced they are marching to their deaths, the father laments that his son hadn’t gone with his mother. Wiesel, awash in disbelief and contemplating whether to throw himself at the electrified barbed wire, looks to his father. “He was weeping. His body was shaking....
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