Salt to the Sea by Ruta Sepetys Page A

trembling. “Please, no.”
    The nurse’s neck fell limp, like a broken doll. Her chin dropped against my chest. She began to cry.
    The broken shards of ice shifted. The blind girl’s blue scarf suddenly appeared on the surface of the water.
    The little boy buried his head against Poet’s leg. “Make it stop! Please, no more.”
    â€œShh. There, there, Klaus,” said the shoemaker.
    The nurse sobbed, clinging to me.
    I sat, paralyzed, wanting to put my arms around her, but knowing I couldn’t.
    The Polish girl knelt beside us. She spoke quietly, stroking the nurse’s hair and wiping her tears. Then, without a word, she lifted my arms and placed them around the nurse.

alfred
    Dearest Hannelore,
    Good morning from the port! It has become overwhelmingly crowded in Gotenhafen. Those fleeing from the region stand in line waiting for ship assignment. We must be cautious with registration, as there may be deserting German soldiers hiding among these refugees.
    I pity the man who cannot overcome his cowardice, who cannot step on the neck of his own weaknesses. I know you saw the group of Hitler Youth come to my door, Lore. The boys teased that I was a coward, not strong enough to serve our country, but how wrong they were. I’m so pleased you know that. Yes, initially I was not part of Hitler Youth and my critical father was ashamed. But now here I am, called a bit later than most but only because they have finally realized that it takes a man to succeed where boys have failed. It is so gratifying. And where are the bullies of Hitler Youth? Perhaps dead, imprinted by the tread of a tank. Death, it seems, has a mind of its own.
    Yes, I know it must all sound hostile, but this is war. Brave men are reduced to numbers. These numbers are engraved twice on an oval metal disc we wear around our neck. In the event of death, they shall snap the disc in half. Half will be buried withmy body, the other half turned in to Command with my papers and personal effects.
    I am 42089.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    I couldn’t help but wonder: Did Hannelore have a number?

emilia
    We waited on the bank for several hours but the planes did not return. The water froze again. So did our hands and feet.
    The soldiers returned to their stations. They insisted we cross a different section of the ice. They rushed the groups of people, all eyes intent on the sky. I resumed my place in the cart. The knight held Joana by the elbow, worried that she might jump into the hole that had taken the blind girl from us. He was scared to touch her, but wanted desperately to touch her.
    I held my breath as we crossed, quivering at the thought of our Ingrid frozen beneath. The ice ached and groaned, like old bones carrying too many years, brittle and threatening to snap at any moment. My nerves lurched with each sound. I held my hands across my stomach. The shoe poet walked ahead of the group, tapping the ice with his stick and nodding.
    â€œThe ice is arthritic, but no fractures yet,” he reported. “Hurry along, the top is melting slightly. We have kilometers to go.”
    Kilometers to go.
    The cramping and pressure resumed below my waist. I couldn’t watch any longer. I lay back in the frigid cart, closed my eyes, and thought of August. In my mind, the warm sunburned bright. The unfenced pastures rolled soft, like worn velvet. The window boxes puffed with flowers and the tree branches stooped heavy with ripe plums. August returned to the estate, slick with sweat after a long ride with his horse, Tabrez.
    I heard the wheels of the cart churn and scrape beneath me. No one had asked, so I didn’t mention it.
    I did not know how to swim.

joana
    After several hours, we reached the other side of the lagoon. No one celebrated. Instead, we trudged quietly and slowly onto the bank. Finally, Eva spoke.
    â€œI was sure we’d all drown, like cats in a bag.”
    The wandering boy looked up at Eva. Tears, like