Auntie Alma places a big platter of sticky buns on the kitchen table. She pours four glasses of black currant juice, as well as coffee for herself and Aunt Märta.

“Bulle,” Auntie Alma says in Swedish, indicating the buns, once all four of them are seated around the table. She goes on to tell Stephie and Nellie the words for glass, table, stool, and cup in this new language.

Stephie and Nellie try to imitate the strange words. Some are similar to the German words for the same objects, others very different.

“Stol, Stuhl.” Stephie says the Swedish word first, then the German one. Auntie Alma imitates her, trying to get the German word right. “Schtol,” it comes out. Auntie Alma laughs at herself.

“Schtol, schtol,” her children parrot with pleasure. Then they point to themselves, shouting: “Elsa!” “John!” “Elsa!” “John!”

By the time Aunt Märta gets up from the table, Nellie and Stephie know ten words of Swedish. When Aunt Märta comes back into the kitchen, she is carrying Stephie’s coat. She extends it to her.

“Stephie?” Nellie asks anxiously. “What’s happening? What does she mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Stephie answers. Slowly she puts on her coat and buttons it all the way up. Auntie Alma and the children walk her and Aunt Märta to the door.

“Are you leaving me here, Stephie?” Nellie whispers. “Why can’t you stay?”

Aunt Märta walks out the door. Stephie picks up her knapsack and puts it on again.

“Don’t leave me!” Nellie pleads. “I don’t want to stay here without you!”

“Don’t make a fuss,” says Stephie. “We have to do as we’re told.”

“But Mamma promised we’d live together. She said so.”

“I know. Maybe this is just for tonight. Don’t be afraid.”

Nellie hugs Stephie tight. “Will you be here in the morning?” she asks, sounding very small.

“Of course I will,” says Stephie, not knowing whether she’ll be able to keep that promise. She walks through the door behind Aunt Märta.