“I wish!”
“Don’t you have a friend or a coworker or a family member who’s a chef?”
“No. Why?”
I can’t tell her about the oracle’s third revelation that identified me as the next Key Seeker and her as the Key to the Third Key. It was more enigmatic and briefer than Mother’s previous two episodes. In a nutshell, all she got was “Elise Pontet from Chambéry” and “the chefs will tell you where to look.”
I sit back. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you why.”
“Fine, whatever. Anyway, I don’t know any chefs.”
“Are you sure?” I survey her. “Distant cousins, maybe? Former classmates?”
“Perhaps someone who isn’t a chef yet but is training to become one?” Darrel suggests.
That gives me another idea. “Or someone who isn’t an actual chef, formally speaking, but a gifted amateur?”
Something flashes in Elise’s eyes. Something like an idea.
“My paternal great-grandparents loved to cook,” she says. “They were really good at it. It was their favorite pastime after the war.”
“Yesss!” Darrel breathes out.
“Grandpa François told me how his mom, Elise—I was named after her—would spend her Saturdays in the library, going through old books and magazines to hunt down unique recipes. And then she and my great-grandfather Simon would spend their Sunday cooking.”
“Did family members and friends ever call them chefs?” I ask. “Was it the couple’s nickname?”
“I’m not sure, but I can ask Grandpa François.”
“Please do.”
We finish the meal to Darrel’s good-natured jokes. He’s in a great mood. I don’t quite share his enthusiasm. Even if we get a confirmation that Elise’s paternal great-grandparents are the chefs from the oracle’s revelation, it doesn’t move us forward that much. They’re dead. How can they show us the way?
I refill Elise’s wine glass. “Did Simon and Elise leave archives behind? Memoirs? Diaries? Photo albums?”
“We have very few photos of them,” she says. “No memoirs or diaries. But Grandpa François has a collection of letters they exchanged during the war.”
“World War II?” Darrel asks. “Just to be sure.”
“Yes. Simon had joined the Resistance shortly after France’s shameful surrender and continued up to the Libération.”
Now we’re talking!“Have you read the letters?”
“No.”
“No? Why not?”
“Because Grandpa François won’t let me. He keeps them locked in a box, and no one but him has ever read them.”
Darrel knits his brows. “His dad was a Resistance hero. Why wouldn’t your grandfather want anyone to read those precious wartime letters?”
I search Elise’s face, waiting for her to answer Darrel’s question. She averts her gaze. Then, unexpectedly, she looks back at me. Right into my good eye.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she declares before turning to Darrel. “And you, too.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Do you?”
“You’re thinking the reason for Grandpa’s odd behavior is because the whole ‘Resistance hero’ thing is a myth.” She casts her eyes down. “You’re probably thinking Simon was in reality a Nazi collaborator or a deserter who hid out until the war was over.”
