The title is a reference to the song by Joshua Radin and Maria Taylor.
Please note this chapter has not been edited by a Beta Reader. English is not my first language to please comment on both grammar and content.
It was a harsh winter. The snowflakes fell like disoriented white warriors, rushing to the ground for protection.
As he once more glanced up at the majestic building, it all came rushing back like a flood of a million suppressed emotions. Within a fraction of a second, he was back on the ice-covered lake with his hand pressed tightly against the cold ice while screaming out the panic that was smothering him. It was as if it had taken place just yesterday.
His heart paused.
He closed his eyes to hold back the stinging tears. German boys never cry, he reminded himself.
His perfectly shaped lips pursed in a useless effort to silent a scream.
He finally turned his back on Napola, Der Führer, his so called friends. But most of all, he turned his back on Heinrich Stein.
And he never looked back.