Anne Frank Novels & Stories

Author's POV After leaving for work the next day, Anne called her friends over and they helped her pack. After about an hour when they were done packing, they set out to leave the house but then the house staff began to ask her questions like where she was going with her boxes. But Anne didn't answer any of them. After loading all her bags into Kiama's booth, Kiama drove Anne and the other ladies to the airport where Anne was going to board a plane out of San Francisco, California.

* Azra was a bright-eyed, polite, little eleven year old who couldn't meet anyone's eyes when she was brought to the house by Adnan. Afrah, who had been discharged three days prior, watched from her window as he drove into the house with the little girl sitting beside him.

JANE I heard the words leave my mouth before I could stop them. "It's only fair to end this with a little bit of crass, is it not?" His eyebrows went up. Interest flickered across his face. I stood, tucking the bills into my purse with deliberate slowness. Five hundred dollars. That was textbooks and maybe even groceries that weren't ramen. My hands weren't shaking anymore. I was Jailbird now. Fully Jailbird. Jane Puckett was locked away somewhere safe.

Actually interested. I told him everything. Not the summary version — I had given him the summary on the phone, the single sentence that had carried the weight of the morning. I told him the full version. Anna at the door of the café, smaller than expected, the self-contained deliberateness of her movement. The way she had said she had prepared speeches and decided they were wrong. The twelve-year-old who had noticed the font on a birth certificate and filed it. Robert and Linda Park who had been good people and whom she had decided to let rest. The word safe and what it meant to her and why she had needed to establish it before she was willing to come.

Actually, the weather seems to be getting increasingly unpredictable. Dark weather makes her uneasy as it is. The one memory that still haunts her is that time she spent during the hurricane. Young Sera got caught in this storm walking back from the bus stop. Her high school had a problem with closing unless there was a state of emergency. She still remembers how the winds whipped her hair around and stray garbage cans rolled past as the rain drenched her clothes. She made it to her street just as the storm peeked. A tree dropped in front of her, cutting her off halfway down the dead-end street. To this day, she can remember the way the Earth quaked under her feet and the crunch of glass whe