My name is Inge. I am sixteen.
I live with Mama and Papa in Munich. Food is still rationed, though the war ended over ten years ago.
My boyfriend is Jewish. I have to hide this from my parents.
I think they are hiding something from me, too. Letters arrive every year on my birthday, but they are not addressed to me. They are for a girl named Kasia. This is her story.
‘Powerful and harrowing’ Mail on Sunday
‘A haunting beauty of a novel’ Irish Times