Anja peeked over at her. Did Susanne really think her smile was irresistible?

Nonsense, she told herself. So far, she has managed to resist it just fine, hasn’t she?

By the time they made it to the Schwabentor, the parade had already started, and they ended up squeezing in among the crowd lined up at the side of the street, watching the costumed groups, marching bands, and the occasional carnival float pass by.

Since Anja was shorter than most of the people around them, she chose a spot in the front, where she could see all the costumes. It didn’t take long to dawn on her that it probably hadn’t been the best idea. The kids in front of her grabbed all the candy, and as the first adult in the crowd behind them, she was the target of all the practical jokes.

A sailor marching alongside a horse-drawn boat on wheels painted a lipstick heart on her cheek, a bunny rubbed its giant stuffed carrot over her head until her hair was a mess, and a devil in a fiery-red costume tickled her nose with a horse tail on a stick.

Anja whirled around to her self-appointed protector, who was bent over with laughter. “You’re a complete failure as a bodyguard.” She had to lean close and shout to be heard over the loud music from the marching bands. “Everyone is picking on me. Why am I the only one who’s getting singled out?”

Grinning, Susanne plucked a bit of confetti from Anja’s hair. “It’s because you look cute and approachable. I’m more intimidating.”

“Oh, if you’re so intimidating, then come here and do what you promised—protect me.” She pushed Susanne in front of her as a human shield, and Susanne let herself be dragged around with a laugh.

But now she blocked Anja’s view, so she peeked around her. Her cheek rested on Susanne’s shoulder, and when the crowd behind her surged forward to catch some candy being thrown, she had to grab hold of Susanne’s hips not to lose her balance.

It instantly reminded her of being pressed against her in the overly full train to the stationery fair, but at the same time, it felt different. In the two and a half weeks since Paperworld, she had really gotten to know Susanne. She wasn’t pressed up against an attractive woman she barely knew—this was Susanne, the person who had helped her climb a thirty-meter tower and who had gone to the lake with her to float paper boats.

Susanne glanced back at her. “You okay?” The mirth dancing in her eyes had been replaced by a look of concern.

Anja nodded, even though she wasn’t sure how okay she really was.

A squeak from the little girl in front of them directed her attention back to the parade.