“You saved my violin.” She tries to answer, but even when she manages to move her lips, words seem to belong to a different realm

Within the darkness, figures fade in and out of view.

A man wearing a white coat that gleams in the dark and who smells of soap.

“Rest. Rest and let the body heal. There are a few burns, but mostly there has been a shock to the system. Nothing of too much concern.”
Dussoff.

“I called to wish you an easy recovery, Frau Schwebel. And to assure yourself and your husband you that we will be making arrangements for your family’s safety.”

She tries to speak, but again the words do not come. He understands when she mouths thank you.

He coughs. “Felix, though, is a different matter. I have told your husband that he will have to make himself scarce for a while. A spell in a foreign country. I have heard that Paris is a good place for young thinkers like him.”

She hears the news but it does not touch her.

Sarah.

An arm pulling her up and placing an ice cube in her mouth. The cool smoothness soothes the roof of her mouth and takes the velvet feel from her tongue. When the melted water trickles down her throat, she swallows again and asks for water.

“Good girl,” Sarah soothes. “Good girl. Now, you must all stay here as long as you need.”

Now when her mind speaks, a rough sound emerges. “The house?”

Sarah shakes her head, face sorrowful. “There is nothing left.”

Emmy.

“They say that I must not touch you or try to embrace you.” Eyes wide with fear.

“I… I am fine. No cause for concern, Emmy.”

“Can I at least… give you a kiss?”

Hannah nods, blinking away the tears that bathe her eyes in comfort.

The faintest brush of lips on her forehead and Emmy is gone.

Becca.

“You have been so brave, Hannah. So very brave.”

She blinks. Was she brave? Was that what it was called? What she had done — finding the violin, crawling out the house, surviving, seemed more instinct than anything else.

Becca squeezes her hands. “And you must continue to be strong.”

Becca stares into her eyes and Hannah does not know what she means.

Ernst.

“You saved my violin.” She tries to answer, but even when she manages to move her lips, words seem to belong to a different realm. She blinks her stinging eyes and looks up. His blue eyes are filled with tenderness.