Trafika Europe 9/10 - UK in Europe

Zöe Beck didn’t own a car, so he was driving back to town with us. Silvana’s parents also didn’t come, but that hadn’t been arranged. We took her along as well. My parents weren’t exactly thrilled because Silvana lived in Jürgenohl, which was quite a bit out of our way. As my father pulled up at the public housing building on Königsberger Strasse, the lights were blazing in Silvana’s apartment on the third floor. We could see that Silvana’s mother was standing on the balcony. We could hear through the closed car doors that she was screaming at her husband. We could hear him yell back, and her volume level spiked so sharply they had to have heard her as far away as Rammelsberg. I looked over at Silvana. Cem was

sitting between us on the back seat, and he was watching her, too. She had dropped her head, shut her eyes, and stuck her fingers in her ears. My parents were whispering with each other, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then my father honked briefly, and the yelling on the balcony broke off. In response, the lights in the other apartments flashed on. Silvana tore the car door open just as my mother was turning around to say something to her. She jumped out of the car and dashed to the building, but we couldn’t see if she actually went in. “It has nothing to do with us,” my father said, andmy mother shook her head like she did whenever I came home with a hopelessly screwed-up

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