The Daughter of Anne Frank

Prologue

March 1945
"Margot?" Anne asked, shaking her sister. Anne smiled for the first time in a long while. She didn't realize that Margot had just died no more than a few hours ago. Typhus. The birds had been flying overhead; birds that the girls haven't seen since they were in hiding. Not the birds of prey like they've seen in Auschwitz.
"Listen Margot, the birds. They're back." Anne continued. "They came back, Margot!" Anne's shoving pushed the unmoving body of Margot Frank to the dirty floor. Anne crawled off the bunk and to Margot, where she continuously tried to wake her. Some of the weaker bodies of the women struggled to get Margot's socks off her feet and her other clothing as well.
"No, you'll wake her!" Anne shouted hoarsely. She looked down at her older sister, desperate. Margot needed to wake up.
The women are taking her clothes. They always do this when one of us dies. Margot is...dead.
Anne started to sob over the dead body of her sister. She looked up at the sky with tears rolling down her ashened gray face. Why did you have to take Margot from me, God? I need her here with me! Please...don't let Margot be dead! I already lost my whole family, not Margot too! Anne prayed, her eyes searching for an answer in the bleak sky.
Her plea didn't make Margot come back to life. Soon, they took the eldest Frank girl away to the pile of bodies outside the barrack. Anne immediately got lonely without her sister. Day after day, she had no one to talk to. No one to share old stories with. Pim's stories...Hardly anyone would care about her loss of her older sister. She stayed in the barrack most of the time, vomiting every now and then. Anne hardly went to talk to Hanneli, her old best friend from school, who was at the Star Camp on the other side of the fence. Hanneli tried to toss her some food when she could.
Anne Frank somehow managed to stay alive for two more weeks after Margot's death. Bergen-Belsen was liberated.
A soldier helped Anne out of the camp and took her back to Amsterdam by train, along with other inmates who were from Amsterdam.
She felt worse than she is, considering she has typhus. But it was something other than typhus. She couldn't figure out what it was.
Stay focused Anne. The almost 16-year-old teenager scolded herself. Maybe one of the van Pels' is still alive. But where are they?