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Louis sees her first. His eyes widen. Then he smiles. As if seeing her is enough. As if knowing she’s alive makes everything bearable.

Tina follows his gaze until her eyes alight on Andrée. Her hand goes to her mouth.

“Maman,” Andrée calls out. “Papa.”

The guards pull Andrée toward one car and her parents toward the other. But for this moment, they can see each other. For this moment, they know they have all survived.

“We love you,” Louis calls.

“I love you too,” Andrée calls back. “I didn’t break.”

“We know,” Tina says. “We know, ma chérie. We’re so proud of you.”

“Hold on, ma fille,” Louis calls out. “I overheard the guards talking—they’ve landed, the Allies have landed in Normandy, they’ll be here soon. Vive la France!”

The smile that begins on Andrée’s face hearing this wonderful news disappears at the sight of Louis being punched in the head to shut him up. But it’s too late.

“Is she . . . ?” Andrée calls out.

“She’s fine,” Tina calls back, her voice breaking.

Andrée slumps in the arms of the men holding her. “She got away. Josie’s safe,” she whispers to herself.

The guards shove Andrée into a car. The door slams. Through the window, she watches her parents being loaded into a different vehicle. Louis helps Tina, supporting her injured arm. The trace of a triumphant smile remains. Even now, even here.

The cars pull away in separate directions. Andrée watches until she can no longer see the other vehicle. Then she closes her eyes.

Fresnes Prison. That’s where they’re going. She overheard the guards talking. Fresnes is in the suburbs southeast of Paris. It’s the place where prisoners are sent before deportation to the east, to places with names that mean death.

But her parents are alive. And maybe even still together. And somewhere in Paris, Josie is safe.

Andrée holds on to these thoughts.

In Monique’s apartment, Josie wakes from a nightmare. She sits up in bed, her heart pounding.

It’s been five days since they were taken. Five days of not knowing. Five days of silence.

She gets up quietly, careful not to wake Monique, and goes to the window. Somewhere out there, she thinks, they must be alive.

“Please . . .” she whispers to the darkness. “Please bring them home to me.”

But the darkness doesn’t answer. The city sleeps on. And in Fresnes Prison, the Levallois family face an uncertain future.

Separated. Imprisoned. But unbroken.

They held the line. They protected their network. They refused to betray their comrades.

It’s all they have left. But it’s everything.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Andrée’s cell in Fresnes Prison is smaller than the one at rue le Peletier. There is a metal bed frame bolted to the wall, with a thin mattress that smells of previous occupants. The bucket again, but also one barred small window high up on the wall, too high to see through.

Andrée sits on the mattress, her back against the wall. Are you her parents somewhere in this prison, locked in similar cells? Are they together? Can they communicate?

The questions circle endlessly in her mind. Questions for which there are no answers, just the faint knocking on the heating pipes, not consistent enough to be background noise, but annoying enough to prevent sleep. On the second evening, something about the knocking sound catches her attention. The next time Andrée hears the tapping she stands on her bed, straining up toward the pipes that run high along the cell wall.

Now she can the voices of other women identifying themselves, their cell numbers, why they’re here.