It's different now, like pushing the stop lever on my camera until nothing except the war can squeeze through the lens.
Sarah MillerMots clés war russia russian-revolution anastasia otma romanovs tsar-nicholas
Maria cries unashamedly on my shoulder while I whisper and pet her cheek, but Anastasia grips my other hand and stares fiercely back at our Alexander Palace with her wet blue eyes until it is no more than a lemon-colored speck against the sunrise.
Sarah MillerMots clés sadness home russia russian-revolution anastasia otma tsar-nicholas-ii the-romanovs
When the windowpanes start to turn from black to gray, my sisters cradle themselves around me, rocking me like the sea until I can taste the salt of our tears
Sarah MillerI'd like to know how anyone can write the truth about us if we've never met.
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