Anne dived down. Almost caught the tip of her shawl. But the wind pulled it away just before her fingers touched the sand. She landed on her hands and knees, but immediately scrambled back up to her feet and ran after the cursed shawl. She noticed that another young girl had joined the chase, with a lighter attitude towards it than her own. Anne didn't stop to look at her or thank her. Nor did she have the time to tell the other girl that this was not a game - not that she would ever have the courage to, much as she thought it.

Finally, she managed to trap the shawl under her foot. She stooped down and picked it up. Then she turned to the young girl and observed her with a guarded look. Her accent had sounded foreign, her appearance was different than that of most people she knew. Anne gave the girl a shy smile. "Thank you," she said. She still smiled. She stared. She turned red.