Page 255 - The Book Thief

of use, coughed out the words. Im sorry. Its for your mama.

Liesel stopped breathing.

She was suddenly aware of how empty her feet felt inside her shoes. Something
ridiculed her throat. She trembled. When finally she reached out and took
possession of the letter, she noticed the sound of the clock in the library. Grimly,
she realized that clocks dont make a sound that even remotely resembles ticking,
tocking. It was more the sound of a hammer, upside down, hacking methodically
at the earth. It was the sound of a grave. If only mine was ready now, she
thoughtbecause Liesel Meminger, at that moment, wanted to die. When the
others had canceled, it hadnt hurt so much. There was always the mayor, his
library, and her connection with his wife. Also, this was the last one, the last
hope, gone. This time, it felt like the greatest betrayal.

How could she face her mama?

For Rosa, the few scraps of money had still helped in various alleyways. An
extra handful of flour. A piece of fat.

Ilsa Hermann was dying now herselfto get rid of her. Liesel could see it
somewhere in the way she hugged the robe a little tighter. The clumsiness of
sorrow still kept her at close proximity, but clearly, she wanted this to be over.
Tell your mama, she spoke again. Her voice was adjusting now, as one sentence
turned into two. That were sorry. She started shepherding the girl toward the
door.

Liesel felt it now in the shoulders. The pain, the impact of final rejection.

Thats it? she asked internally. You just boot me out?

Slowly, she picked up her empty bag and edged toward the door. Once outside,
she turned and faced the mayors wife for the second to last time that day. She
looked her in the eyes with an almost savage brand of pride. Danke schn, she
said, and Ilsa Hermann smiled in a rather useless, beaten way.

If you ever want to come just to read, the woman lied (or at least the girl, in her
shocked, saddened state, perceived it as a lie), youre very welcome.