Annika shook her head. “He’s not coming today.”
“I—I have something for him.”
Annika reached out. “I can give it to him tomorrow.”
Sarah clutched the straps of the knapsack closer to her chest. “I’ll find him later.”
Annika sat on one of the wooden stools outside the barn. The sun had tipped over the Alps on the other side of the lake, chasing the morning fog away. “Everything is quiet here,” she said. “Too quiet. Even the Dornbachs haven’t returned.”
“Perhaps they will stay in Vienna this year.”
She couldn’t imagine it, an entire summer without Max. Norcould she let her mind wander to what he might be doing in the city with Fräulein Weiss or another young woman.
The days and hours seemed to spin around her, spiraling out of control. So much kept changing—the rhythm of her life, the people she loved, the news that streamed out of Vienna. If only she could press the cone of the spinning top until it tumbled over, giving her a chance to breathe before the world shifted again.
Sarah sat on a second stool, glancing at the cottage before leaning toward Annika. “Is your father still asleep?”
“He went into Obertraun today.”
“People say he’s working with the Nazis.”
Annika shook her head. “There aren’t any Nazis in Obertraun.”
“Nazis are everywhere.”
A layer of ice seemed to creep across Annika’s arms, and she rubbed her hands over them. “Just for today, let’s pretend there are none in Austria.”
Her friend glanced out at the lake. “Then we must take a swim.”
Sarah pulled her bathing suit out of her bag and the two of them changed in the cottage before diving into the lake together, shrieking when the cold water swept over the heat of their skin.
They raced out to the depths but didn’t swim far before they returned to play near the shore as if they were ten again, splashing each other, diving under the surface to see who could stay submerged the longest, their lungs begging for a breath.
When the sun began lowering toward the western edge of the lake, Annika followed Sarah back onto the shore, the weeds and mud in the shallows oozing between her toes. “Must you go?” sheasked.
“I’m afraid so.”
Annika sighed, wishing this day never had to end.
They changed in the boathouse, Sarah transforming back intothe young woman she was expected to be, her knapsack strapped over her shoulder, but she didn’t seem to want to leave either. Together they sat at the edge of the dock for a few more stolen minutes, their feet dangling in the cold water.
Annika pointed toward Sarah’s throat. “You forgot to put on your necklace.”
Her friend shook her head. “My mother won’t let me wear it anymore.”
She almost told Sarah that she’d found a similar necklace in Frau Dornbach’s room, one encrusted with diamonds, but it seemed the star was something to hide these days. “You used to be so proud of that necklace.”
“It stirs up unnecessary trouble now.”
“Your mother’s words?”
Sarah nodded.
“She takes good care of you and your brother.”
“Your mother used to take such good care of you, too.” Both of them looked across the lake to the outline of the cemetery on the other side. “Do you still miss her?”
“I’ll always miss her,” Annika said. “Will you come swim again soon?”
