Page 463 - The Book Thief

close to noiseless, but his eyes were louder than ever. They beat furiously in

their sockets as he squeezed his injured hand and the blood rose through the
bandage.

It was Rosa who stopped him.

Please, Michael, its not your fault.

But the young man with only a few remaining fingers on his right hand was
inconsolable. He crouched in Rosas eyes.

Tell me something, he said, because I dont understand. . . . He fell back and sat
against the wall. Tell me, Rosa, how she can sit there ready to die while I still
want to live. The blood thickened. Why do I want to live? I shouldnt want to, but
I do.

The young man wept uncontrollably with Rosas hand on his shoulder for many

minutes. The rest of the people watched. He could not make himself stop even
when the basement door opened and shut and Frau Holtzapfel entered the
shelter.

Her son looked up.

Rosa stepped away.

When they came together, Michael apologized. Mama, Im sorry, I should have
stayed with you.

Frau Holtzapfel didnt hear. She only sat with her son and lifted his bandaged
hand. Youre bleeding again, she said, and with everyone else, they sat and

waited.

Liesel reached into her bag and rummaged through the books.

THE BOMBING OF MUNICH,
MARCH 9 AND 10
The night was long with bombs
and reading. Her mouth was