فصل 95

florian

“The ship, it’s under,” said Joana, her teeth chattering. Her voice was barely a whisper.

I counted nearly fifty people in our large lifeboat. We could have fit more.

The shoemaker.

The Polish girl.

Gone.

The cold on the open water would kill us. I called out to the little boy and pulled him onto my lap. I turned my body and straddled the bench in the boat. “Do the same,” I told Joana. “We’ll put the kids between us. Put the baby under your blouse and coat, against your skin.”

She turned toward me, holding the baby. I moved as close as I could. I wrapped my arms around her, sheltering the children from the elements. Our heads touched.

“Can you hear me?” Joana whispered. Her voice sounded thin, frightened.

I nodded and turned my good ear toward her.

“It’s so cold. Will anyone come for us?” she asked.

The air was black. The moon hid behind the clouds, unable to stomach the wretched scene. I looked out across the water, thousands of corpses floating silently. So many children. The girl I had pulled into the boat was already dead. She lay blue and lifeless at our feet. How would the Nazis report the news of the sinking? But then I realized.

They wouldn’t report it at all.

“Will anyone come for us?” repeated Joana.

“Yes,” I lied. “Someone will come for us.”

With the threat of Russian submarines in the area, most ships would probably detour to avoid us.

Everything I ran with was in my pack—my papers, the forged documents, my notebook, and the swan. All the running, the hiding, the lies, the killing, for what? The endless circle of revenge: answering pain by inflicting pain. Why did I do it?

The strange sailor had not made it to a lifeboat. There were none left. I looked down at my boots. My heel was still intact. Had the map and key survived? Did it matter? Water slowly crept through a crack in the bottom of our boat. The precious treasure would end up at the bottom of the Baltic.

So would I.

Maybe the Amber Room truly did carry a curse.

During my weeks on the run I had imagined every scenario. I had counted all of the ways I could die. They were gruesome, frightening. I had carefully planned how I would defend myself, what weapon I would use. But this, I had never imagined. How do you defend yourself against the prolonged, insufferable agony of knowing you will surrender to the sea?