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Andrée and Mlle Évrard know one another well. Through the network, Andrée has heard that other Jewish girls are being sheltered at the school, with the headmistress’s full knowledge and blessing. She tells herself that even if Mlle Évrard refuses, she is unlikely to denounce them for harboring a Jewish child. But telling herself this and believing it are different things.

Still, what choice do they have? Josie needs to be at school.

Andrée enters the building, making her way through the throng of girls, each in her school smock and clutching a satchel. She finds her way to the headmistress’s office and knocks carefully. Marie-Thérèse Évrard opens her door.

“Andrée, so lovely to see you. Does this visit mean you will finally accept one of my many requests to become a permanent teacher here?”

Andrée’s face is grave. “Marie-Thérèse, hello. I love my work here, but no, that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

The headmistress’s expression changes as she takes in the look on Andrée’s face. This isn’t a courtesy call.

“Come in,” she says, closing the door behind them.

“I’ve come about Joséphine, one of my piano pupils, in her first year with you,” Andrée tells her.

“Ah yes, I’ve heard,” says Marie-Thérèse carefully, sitting at her desk and inviting Andrée to take the seat opposite her. The two women watch one another warily.

“What have you heard?” Andrée asks finally.

“That Joséphine and her family were taken in the early hours of Thursday morning.”

“Her mother and brother were taken. Not Joséphine.”

Marie-Thérèse doesn’t say a word. She shifts in her chair, looking anywhere but at Andrée. Then she rubs at her temples and briefly closes her eyes. Andrée is about to say more, but Marie-Thérèse raises her hand to stop her.

From her top drawer she takes out a piece of paper. Pushing it and a pen toward Andrée, she asks, “Are you telling me that you wish to enroll a new child at the school?”

Andrée is puzzled for a moment, then understands.

Adopting a professional tone, she begins.

“Mlle Évrard, I would like to enroll my niece, Joséphine Levallois, in your school, and it is my hope you will be able to have her start immediately,” she says, staring hard at Marie-Thérèse.

“Understood. What I now need from you is to complete this enrollment form. I’ll have her original papers changed to state that her first day is November 9, 1942.”

“Thank you,” Andrée says, her voice breaking with emotion.

“Please, don’t thank me. I can assure you that I and all the staff will do our best to ensure that your niece receives the education she deserves—the same education and respect afforded to every girl in the school. As long as I’m here, she will be safe. And you will be able to keep a close eye on her.”

Andrée stands, walks around the desk as Marie-Thérèse moves toward her, and the two women embrace.

“I fear you and your parents will have the tougher time,” Marie-Thérèse whispers in her ear. “I am available to you any time, day or night, to help with Josie.”

The following Monday, Josie descends the staircase to the foyer of the apartment block for the first time since the night her family was taken from her. She grips Andrée’s hand tightly. Maurice Dupont can be seen his little desk just inside his apartment. He looks up and takes in the sight of Andrée and her pupil, the girl he’d found frozen on the doorstep a few nights earlier, now clutching a school satchel. Everyone in the neighborhood has heard about the Jewish families being taken in the night.

Andrée hesitates, shifts, then remembers the game: This is her niece. She’s taking her to school.

As if reading her mind, Maurice greets the duo formally.

“Mlle Levallois, good morning. And this is your . . . pupil?”

“That’s right,” Andrée says firmly, the tiniest hint of a challenge in her voice. “My niece in fact. Her mother isn’t well, so we’re taking care of her for the time being.”

They hadn’t thought about what to say to the concierge, although they know he let Josie in.

Maurice looks at Josie. “Off to school across the square,” he says. “Have a good day, little one.”

Josie manages a faint smile, grasping Andrée’s hand even tighter as they hurry down the stairs and out onto the street.