Anni

THAT EVENING, Anni rocks on Mustang’s back. She thinks about the snow castle she made with Sanna on New Year’s Day. Just last week she and Sanna were playing together at the half-melted castle. They couldn’t go inside it anymore. Dad said they couldn’t because the roof might fall in. The castle was still there in the yard — almost melted, but still there. Anni could see it from the window.

Sanna could die. Dad said that it could happen. Anni thinks about what that means. Sanna. Dying. Maybe. Dead things are very quiet, and they don’t move at all.

Anni has two images. The girl in the living room, her heavy breathing. And Sanna on the riverbank, not breathing, and the girl’s heavy breathing again, this time for Sanna, to bring Sanna back to life. The girl in the living room; Sanna at the river, motionless. These are the two images she has. A distinct line is drawn between them. Anni has that: the line between these two images.