Page 452 - The Book Thief

but she could never miss his deadly eyes on the floor of the train or the sound of

a cough that killed.

The book thief lay in bed that night, and the boy only came before she closed her
eyes. He was one member of a cast, for Liesel was always visited in that room.
Her papa stood and called her half a woman. Max was writing The Word Shaker
in the corner. Rudy was naked by the door. Occasionally her mother stood on a
bedside train platform. And far away, in the room that stretched like a bridge to a
nameless town, her brother, Werner, played in the cemetery snow.

From down the hall, like a metronome for the visions, Rosa snored, and Liesel
lay awake surrounded, but also remembering a quote from her most recent book.

THE LAST HUMAN STRANGER, PAGE 38
There were people everywhere on the city
street, but the stranger could not have
been more alone if it were empty.

When morning came, the visions were gone and she could hear the quiet recital
of words in the living room. Rosa was sitting with the accordion, praying.

Make them come back alive, she repeated. Please, Lord, please. All of them.
Even the wrinkles around her eyes were joining hands.

The accordion must have ached her, but she remained.

Rosa would never tell Hans about these moments, but Liesel believed that it
must have been those prayers that helped Papa survive the LSEs accident in
Essen. If they didnt help, they certainly cant have hurt.