Free Annexed by Sharon Dogar

happening. Then my brain begins turning, fast. A barrel's fallen over in the warehouse. Someone must be in there. Boche was trying to tell me someone was there. Did they hear me? Do they know I'm here? Was I quiet enough? Boche stares at me. I stare back.
    I keep very, very still. I watch as the handle of the door turns. It turns all the way around, and then the door's rattled, hard.
    I step back.
    Who is it? If they were Nazi sympathizers or the green police they would just come in, wouldn't they? They must be thieves. We can negotiate with thieves. Or can we? People are starving. What price eight Jews? I don't know. I don't know much at all.
    I watch as Boche strolls to the door, scratches at it, and lets out a loud meow.
    I turn and run.
    I slip silently and fast up the stairs. It feels like it takes forever.
    The Franks are in their sitting room/bedroom. I whisper to Mr. Frank. Anne realizes what's happening straightaway, she starts to shake. She turns white and Margot wraps an arm around her quickly. Mr. Frank rises swiftly and we go downstairs. He stops in the front office and warns Mutti to turn off the radio and go upstairs. She glances at me, is about to reach out and hug me until she sees the warning in my eyes—her hand drops back to her side.
    "Ready?" whispers Mr. Frank. I nod, proud that he hasn't sent me away, hasn't looked for Father. We creep down the
stairs and wait at the bottom, listening. I realize we have no weapons, nothing except our fists. I raise them. The dark is complete. We stand and listen to each other breathing. There's no other sound, nothing.
    And then a door bangs.
    Bang! And another—bang! Like a gunshot. And Mr. Frank whispers, "I'm going to warn them upstairs!" He disappears. I'm alone.
    I step forward, fists raised, but nothing happens, so I follow Mr. Frank. Dr. Pfeffer is in his room. The one he shares with Anne. "Get upstairs!" I say. It comes out terse and rude.
    "How dare you talk to me like that, you young..." I walk up to him, my heart beating fast with fear. I hold him by his shirt under his throat. I hold him too tight. Maybe it's because I'm scared. Maybe not.
    "There are people in the warehouse! Get upstairs, now!" I hiss at him. He signals with his hands. I realize he can't move until I let him go. He runs up the stairs. Noisily. Idiot.
    I follow him.
    Silently.
    Everyone except Father is in the Franks' sitting room. One by one we creep up to the kitchen—and we wait.
Listening. Father coughs. Margot gets him some medicine. She's swift and quiet and brave. We wait. Anne is still shaking. White and quiet for once.
    "Are you all right?" I whisper.
    "When I heard you coming back up the stairs," she says, "I ... I ... didn't know that ... I mean I wasn't sure it was you and Father ... I thought it might be..."
    "Shhh!" whispers Margot. "Not now, Anne." We all know what she thought. That it was them, coming for us. Papi coughs again. Then apologizes. Then coughs. Then goes red with the effort of trying not to cough. Then apologizes. And then coughs again—until I want to strangle him.
    "Did you turn off the radio?" I whisper to Mutti. She nods, but Anne hears me.
    "The radio's still there!" she cries. "What if the air-raid warden comes around and searches the building?" she whispers in horror. "He'll see eight chairs around an illegal radio tuned in to Britain ... and they'll..."
    "Anne! Shhh. We can't do anything about it right now," Margot whispers. I look up at her. She's so quiet normally, but now things are desperate she's brave and calm, and it's Anne who's falling apart.
    Mr. Frank stands up. "I'm going to see if anything's happening down there." I stand up with him. Father too.
    We wait to see if Pfeffer will come with us, but he stays sit
ting with the women. I reach for a hammer. Father puts his coat on and picks out a chisel. Mr. Frank takes nothing. We go down into the dark and wait. Nothing. Not a sound.
    "They must have gone," whispers Father.
    We