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the only one who stuck
up for her. The other
girls knelt beside us and
tried to console Silvana.
The only one who stood
frozen and pale by the
door to the girls’ changing
room was Britta. She had
a single, light brown braid
that fell below her hips
and which she had to pin
up during PE. Her parents
belonged to some non-
denominational church,
but because I couldn’t
stand Britta, I had never
paid much attention to
that. The order from some
parents to avoid contact
with Silvana was losing
its power, at least during
school hours.
Silvana’s mother vanished
the next day, but because
it was the weekend, we
didn’t hear about it until
Monday, when the police
showed up at the school
to ask questions. After
I ran home and told my
mother about this, her
initial response was to
call every single person
she knew. Not in order
to help. Only to gossip.
Everyone assumed that
Silvana’s mother must
have run away with Herr
Schneider, whom they
were sure had used his
alleged sick leave to plan
their getaway. Mother
sounded as if she were
talking about people who
were planning to tunnel
their way under the Wall.
But even I thought that our
German teacher had run
off across the mountains
with Silvana’s mother.
Until we saw him crossing
the cathedral square
Tuesday afternoon. He
was heading toward a