# Chapter 17: All the Beauty in the World
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Chapter 17 of "The Girl They Left Behind free digital audiobook." Now, I must warn you, dear listeners — this chapter is one of those hard, unforgettable turning points. It begins in the most peaceful of places, under the golden warmth of an autumn sun, with a mother and daughter lying in the cool grass of a beautiful garden, feeling as though all was right in the world. And then, in the time it takes for three tiny dots to appear in the sky, everything they love comes crashing down around them. So settle in, hold your breath, and walk with me through this tender, heart-stopping, heartbreaking chapter.
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We join Despina on a trolley, drifting deep in thought. Her mind keeps circling back to Victor — that strange, solitary young man who has quietly woven himself into the fabric of their lives. Anton had hinted, more than once, that Victor's political views were of a dangerously "modern" leaning, and Despina knew only too well what such words could mean in these dark days. But what fascinated her most was the side of Anton that appeared whenever Victor came to call. Every Sunday since the bombings had begun, the young man would show up at their door with his usual quiet knock — one, then two more rapid taps — and something in Anton would change. The bright, boisterous gaiety he reserved for his other guests melted away, replaced by a sort of introspective calm, an ease of being that Despina had never witnessed in her own husband. Perhaps, she mused while gazing out the trolley window, caring for Victor gave Anton a chance to heal the wounds of his own youth. Why else would he drop off precious food at the young man's doorstep when there was so little to spare? Why else would he check, nearly daily, that Victor had enough oil for his kerosene lamps, enough ink for his pens, enough money for the trolley so the boy wouldn't have to walk all the way to the university? Anton spoke of Victor with the affection of a father.
But what truly astonished Despina was the change that had come over Natalia. Her daughter had never shown more than a lukewarm interest in the adults who paraded through their home — until Victor. Now, Talia was always the first to greet him at the door, shrieking with delight when he swung her high overhead and carried her into the house on his back as easily as if she were a half-empty knapsack. The child practiced Beethoven and Chopin for hours, not for her mother's approval, but to impress Victor — to earn that stunned pause between the final chord and his bursting applause. A gleam of pride shone in Talia's eyes whenever he crouched beside her, giving her his full, undivided attention. No one in the family had ever treated her with such consideration. In a short time, Despina realized, Victor had done more for her daughter's self-esteem than the whole household had managed in years.
How was it, Despina wondered, that a man so sensitive could be so utterly alone? Not lonely — Victor hardly seemed the type to crave company — but simply empty of people in his life. Where were his parents? Did he have siblings? Surely a young man with his sharp, decisively masculine nose, his high forehead, his full, sensual lips would have caught the eye of some young lady by now. Yet something about his wiry frame, his slightly stooped shoulders, his pallid skin and angular cheekbones gave him a fragile air that inspired pity more than awe. And his eyes — those forlorn, faraway eyes — always seemed to be pondering some difficult equation or troubling thought. Victor was not an open book, Despina knew, but she had no doubt that one day he would accomplish great things. In a city going up in flames, she took great comfort in knowing that the devotion of a man like him was something she could still count on.
The trolley lurched forward and stopped abruptly, tearing Despina from her thoughts. She grabbed her bag in one hand and Natalia's hand in the other, hurrying off just as the engine revved up to loop around the cul-de-sac. Today, she intended to make the most of every golden hour — the scent of autumn was already creeping into the air, and days like this were not to be squandered. When they reached the beautiful lake house and threw open all the French windows, Despina knew at once where they needed to be: the garden. It was bursting with lilies, dahlias, and rosebushes, all of which would soon be dormant within two months' time.
"Come, Talia," she called, grabbing a blanket and packing a small picnic basket. "Come outside."
Beneath the glorious canopy of an ancient oak, they stretched out side by side — hair loose, shoes off, grass tickling their skin. Natalia hummed a soft melody, her voice gradually fading until only her breath hummed in her mother's ear. Despina was overcome with something almost holy in that moment: a feeling of ecstasy, and certainty. All the beauty in the world was here, in this single moment, in this patch of sun and shadow. She already had everything that could ever give her life meaning. The war would pass. The sirens would eventually stop. The falling debris would cease. And one day, as Anton had promised, their lives would return to normal.
Later, she would wonder if she had tempted fate in that instant — to feel so complete, so serene, as if offering the gods proof that bliss is nothing more than a fleeting state, one that could vanish at the snap of a finger.
It came so softly at first that she thought it was only a colony of bees hovering over her rosebushes. She closed her eyes against it, ignoring it. But the sound grew and swelled until there was no denying it: a siren. Despina jolted upright, straining to determine the direction. It sounded distant, not as piercing as usual, and for one fragile moment she dared to hope it would pass them by. She barely had time to shake Natalia awake before three tiny dots appeared in the flawless blue sky above them. Circling once, then diving lower like eagles hunting prey, the fighter planes came into view.
"Get up, Talia, get up now!" she screamed, yanking the girl to her feet. "We have to go!"
Startled, Natalia scrambled up and stepped on a sharp shrub. She yelped in pain, but Despina kept pulling her along, and the girl had no choice but to hobble on her bleeding foot.
"Where are we going? Where, Mama?" she cried, unable to hear her own voice over the roar.
"There's no time!" Despina mouthed. "This way!"
Up and down the sidewalk they scrambled, desperately searching for any refuge — an entryway, an alcove, anything. It was a split-second decision, driven by pure panic, and Despina feared she had made a terrible mistake. But she couldn't think straight. Her head was spinning, her pulse tearing through her like a freight train. Natalia was pulling at her sleeve, shouting something, when a shadow passed overhead — and Despina looked up to see the Luftwaffe coming at them with such terrifying speed that she fell to her knees.
"Happy thoughts, Talia, remember? Think of something happy!" she managed to gasp, pulling her daughter down and covering the girl's small body with her own.
The sky exploded in a blinding sheet of glass and roof shingles, in a suffocating cloud of ash. And Despina's only hope — as she pressed her body over her child — was that Natalia, as she had been taught in the shelter, was able to pluck from her memory some happy moment, something that had once filled her with joy.
When it was over at last, when the ominous silence stretched on long enough to tell them the fighters had gone, Despina did not have the strength to rise. For a terrible moment, she thought she had been struck — but there was no pain anywhere, no blood seeping from her limbs. Crimson rivulets ran down her ankles over her torn silk stockings, but otherwise she appeared unharmed. *Breathe. Breathe. You are still alive*, she willed herself, struggling to pull air into her lungs.
Beneath her, Natalia was murmuring incoherently. Despina couldn't understand the words until she brought her ear close to her daughter's lips. The girl was whispering a prayer: *"Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."*
When they finally rose, standing and shuffling down the sidewalk like marionettes pulled by invisible strings, nothing looked the same. Despina could not recognize a single residence on this block — even though she had passed them all a hundred times before. Before the war, she and Anton used to stroll down this very street on summer nights, stealing brief moments away from their constant weekend guests. Now she could not tell one house from the next. The facades had all crumbled. Huge piles of stucco and cement overflowed the sidewalks, burying the once-ornate iron entrances. Broken windows stared out like gouged eyes — ugly, dark, and pleading — and not a sound emerged from within. No voices. No cries for help. No barking dogs. Only silence.
Not quite at the end of the block, Despina stopped abruptly and let go of Natalia's hand. She stood there in her chalky dress, coated in ash, her eyes blank with incomprehension — staring, coughing, choking on the smoke. Through a gaping hole in what had once been her beautiful lake house, sun rays filtered through a cloud of dust, illuminating the ravaged interior. And there, cruelly untouched, an intricate Turkish tapestry still hung on the back wall beside the green velvet chair. On the side table next to it, the telephone rested peacefully, unharmed.
"Mama?"
Despina stared into the middle distance.
"Mama?"
Helplessly, Natalia watched her mother crumple at the edge of the sidewalk and weep in a strange way — a way she had never seen before. Despina wept without making a sound. When she lifted her head at last, her fingers had left tracks along her temples, where soot had gathered like black snow against the ivory paleness of her skin.
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After that day, there was no choice left for Despina but to agree to leave for the country. She cried and pleaded and threatened; she knelt at Anton's feet, but he would no longer relent. After she and Natalia had escaped the bombing at the lake house only by a miracle, Anton was no longer willing to compromise or take chances.
"You have to go! You have to take her and go! You owe it to me — to her, for Christ's sake!" He practically leaped off the sofa, his voice rising with terrifying force. "You cannot stay, not after what's happened, Despina!"
She went to him and rested her hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away roughly, tossing the rest of his cigarette into the fireplace. Wide-eyed, Despina watched him in silence, then turned and headed for the door. She was almost out of the room when his voice followed, softer now: "I will come and see you every weekend. No bombs can keep me away. You know that."
She spun around, eyes blazing. "It's forty kilometers, Anton! Are you going to travel that far on foot? Every weekend?"
"I won't need to walk," he replied quietly. "I can catch a train. Be there by lunchtime. We can go on picnics. We can watch Natalia swim in the river. We can laugh like we used to, breathe some much-needed fresh air. Why should all of that seem so uninviting to you?"
She laughed then — a shrill, forced laugh. "Anton, we both know the trains will stop running soon. And what if they bomb the train station? How will you get to us then?"
It was his turn to storm out of the room. Despina watched him whirl past her and slam the French door so hard that the glass squares rattled in their frames.
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### Reader's Impressions & Star Rating
What an emotionally devastating chapter this was! The contrast between Despina's blissful afternoon in the garden, where she felt as though all the beauty in the world had gathered beneath that ancient oak, and the violent destruction that followed is almost too painful to bear. My heart broke when Natalia, rather than thinking happy thoughts as her mother taught her, instead whispered a desperate prayer. And that final image — Despina weeping silently on the sidewalk as soot tracks streaked her pale face — will stay with me for a long time. The chapter also beautifully sets up the growing tension between Anton and Despina, two parents torn between hope and fear, each desperate to protect their family in their own way. This is profoundly moving, gut-wrenching storytelling.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars
### Next Chapter Prediction
Now that Anton has insisted Despina and Natalia escape to the countryside, I predict the very separation he hopes will save them will become the source of new heartbreak. Will the trains Anton is counting on really keep running? And with Victor's "modern" political views lurking in the background, danger may follow the family even beyond the city limits. I suspect Despina will soon find that no bombs are needed to tear a family apart — distance, secrets, and the crushing weight of war may be more than enough. We might also see Victor step into a far more significant role, for better or worse, as Anton's promises begin to fray.
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