(Maybe some people need to believe in a proper and omnipotent God to pray, but I don’t.)
As we got to the end of the room, Gus stopped and said, “You okay?” I nodded.
He gestured back toward Anne’s picture. “The worst part is that she almost lived, you know? She died weeks away from liberation.”
Lidewij took a few steps away to watch a video, and I grabbed Augustus’s hand as we walked into the next room.
It was an A-frame room with some letters Otto Frank had written to people during his months-long search for his daughters.
On the wall in the middle of the room, a video of Otto Frank played. He was speaking in English.
“Are there any Nazis left that I could hunt down and bring to justice?” Augustus asked
while we leaned over the vitrines reading Otto’s letters and the gutting replies that no, no one had seen his children after the liberation.
I think they’re all dead. But it’s not like the Nazis had a monopoly on evil.“True,” he said.
That’s what we should do, Hazel Grace: We should team up and be this disabled vigilante duo roaring through the world,
righting wrongs, defending the weak, protecting the endangered.”
Although it was his dream and not mine, I indulged it. He’d indulged mine, after all.
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