Salt to the Sea by Ruta Sepetys Page B

slender icicles, were frozen to his cheeks.
    â€œSorry,” she said.
    Anger suddenly consumed me. I yanked the German by the arm, pulling him aside. “I could have saved her.”
    â€œNo, you couldn’t. They not only fired through the ice, they shot her.”
    â€œYou can revive someone who drowns! It’s possible. You kept me away.”
    â€œYes, I did. The temperature of the water alone was enough to kill her. It would have killed you too.”
    â€œYou don’t know that!” I yelled.
    â€œNow, now,” interrupted the shoe poet. “Let’s not soil the memory of Ingrid with arguing.” Poet gestured to the German. “He quite possibly saved both you and Emilia. Emilia also scrambled to Ingrid. I saw it. He stopped her too.”
    Emilia had also tried to save Ingrid? “Emilia, are you okay?” I called up to her in the cart.
    â€œYes, okay.” She nodded.
    â€œWe could have lost all of you girls,” continued Poet.
    â€œNot her,” said the German of Eva. “Her big feet grew roots. She didn’t move to save anyone.”
    â€œFeet with roots, that’s called a fungal infection,” Poet told the wandering boy.
    A soldier approached our group. “Papers!” he demanded.
    I pulled the German toward me. “You owe us,” I whispered.

florian
    Owed her? Why did I owe her? I saved her life.
    I tried to distract the soldier while he looked at my papers. “A lot of hysteria back there. Their friend fell through the ice,” I said.
    â€œLucky it was just one,” said the soldier. “Yesterday we lost dozens. Damn Russians.” He scanned my papers. He looked up at me, eyes sharp. “Do you still have the parcel?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThis is signed by Gauleiter Koch,” said the soldier.
    I couldn’t read his expression. Was he questioning or was he acknowledging? “Yes, I’m in a hurry,” I told him.
    â€œWait here,” he said. He turned and walked to another soldier. My pulse quickened.
    The rest of the group overheard the exchange. “Come along,” said the shoemaker, corralling the others. “Let’s leave the boy to his business.”
    The Polish girl stepped away from the group and stood by my side.
    It could have been so easy. I could have walked across the ice myself, without the burden of the group. They could have tried to save the blind girl. Maybe they all would have drowned in the process. That would have been so much easier.
    And so much harder.
    â€œ
Bitte.
”
    The word was so quiet, I wasn’t even sure I had heard it. I looked down at the Polish girl. She wore red lipstick. Her blond hair was released from the captivity of her braids. She pulled her pink hat down over her eyes. “
Bitte,
” she whispered again. “Please.”
    The soldier and a superior were discussing my papers. Had Dr. Lange and Gauleiter Koch made the discovery yet? Did the soldiers have my name on a list of traitors? If so, I’d soon feel the shadow of a gun on the back of my skull.
    The soldier returned, staring at me. “I assume you’re going to Pillau?” he asked.
    â€œYou assume?” I said with an air of authority, needing him to reveal more.
    â€œI am told Gauleiter Koch may be on his way to Pillau.”
    â€œNo, I am not going to Pillau,” I said.
    â€œTo Gotenhafen, then?” he asked.
    Gotenhafen was in the other direction. “Correct. Gotenhafen.”
    â€œYes, Herr Beck. But it’s quite a walk to Gotenhafen. There may be a small boat that can take you.” He suddenly saw the Polish girl at my side and raised an eyebrow.
    â€œYours?” he said with a grin.
    â€œMind yourself. She’s with that group. They helped me when I was injured. In turn, they have helped Gauleiter Koch and the Führer.” I snapped my papers out of his hand. “Have you met Gauleiter Koch?” I asked.
    The