In their early teens, two girls were forced to sit next to each other in school. Although they were complete opposites−one a social butterfly and the other a withdrawn bookworm−they soon realized that they shared similar hopes and dreams. Over time, against all expectations, they became best friends. Until the war broke out.Now, each was thrown into opposite sides of the conflict. And mistakes were made−unforgivable mistakes, that would shape both their futures.How could their friendship endure? “Wonderful... A wry, sharply observed tale of both heroism and coming-of-age-story during one of the darkest times in humanity.” “Compulsively readable... In this 200-page novella Kis-Lev proves to be yet again a distinctively contemporary literary voice.” “Biting, brilliant exploration of a female friendship. And though focuses on young women, readers need be neither young nor female in order to enjoy it...” * * * * Maria stood at the train station. It was spring, finally. The war was now over. How long she had been waiting for this moment! Her hands fidgeted on her purse. She bit her lip. She missed her friend so intensely. And now she was finally coming. The poor girl... Who could have imagined that things would turn out this way... Maria took a deep breath and bit her lips again. She shook her head disapprovingly at herself. “You should stop this!” she thought, “It's not ladylike biting your lips like that!”She folded her hands together. “Oh God, bring her here already!” *At the same time, on the train entering the country, a young woman sat looking through the window. The war was over. And now she could finally return to her beloved city. To her beloved city square, to the famous fountain in front of the city hall. To the many doves there. To the sound of the trams driving slowly on the old streets. To the theatre. To the ballet. But more than anything, she could finally return to Maria. The train stopped at the border. She sat up as the border police officers passed in the aisle. She smiled at the officer and handed him her identification papers. Before the war, one ID was enough. But nowadays, one had to carry multiple forms of identification. The officer looked at the photo and then at her, “Maria?” She nodded, her face revealing nothing. “Date of birth?” “January 22nd,” she said calmly, “1920.” “What was the purpose of your stay abroad?” She paused.