“Go away princess. Leave your outlaw alone. You won't change him... go away, Anna, far away, and don't ever come back. The fairy tale doesn't have a happy ending.”

“Next to that dragon Micha had wirtten: 'KIS EacH OthER'. Abel looked at Anna. Anna looked at Abel.'She is the little queen,' said Abel, 'in our fairy tale, at least.''One must obey the queen,' said Anna.”

“They saw him walk away, leave a world he'd never really been part of. They saw him pull his hat down low and get onto his bike. He forgot the Walkman's earplugs. Maybe, Anna thought, he didn't need them anymore; maybe the white noise had finally made it into his head.”

“As long as you're better at it than skating...," Anna said and stood up too. She wanted to say more, but that wasn't possible because he was kissing her. Reasonable Anna wanted to draw back the danger of touch. But unreasonable Anna welcomed the kiss like happiness. Maybe, she thought, it's better to take these moments when you get them - there might not be too many in life.”

“And she imagined how things could be later. It was stupid, but the picture just appeared in her mind. Abel and Magnus shoveling snow together... in twenty years, in thirty. Magnus had grown old, his broad back still strong but bent from time, his hair nearly white at the temples. And Abel... Abel was a different Abel, an adult one, one who was absolutely self-confident and didn't let his eyes dart around the room at lunch, as if he were caught in trap. "Nonsense," she whispered. "Thirty years? You don't stay with the person you meet at seventeen... what kind of fairy tale are you living in, Anna Leemann?" And still the picture seemed right.”

“He looked at the gun. "Aren't you afraid?""Of course I am," Anna said. "Of course I'm afraid. But that doesn't help."He shook his head. "No," he said, "it doesn't help to be afraid. Bad things happen anyway. You're right.”

“Abel lifted her up - another gesture from former times, from when she'd been smaller - and carried her to the bathroom to find the Band-aid. Suddenly, Anna thought, she's growing up. One day, she'll be too big to be carried around like that. One day, he won't be able to hold onto her, she'll move on, and he'll be left all alone. Maybe the responsibility for Micha is more of an anchor than a burden. A lifeboat. A wooden plank to hold onto so you don't drown.”