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“It was one of the sweetest things I’ve seen in a long time. Do you know what it told me? It told me how strong your friendship with Monique is. She is watching over you, that girl. I’m so glad you have her as a friend.”

Josie is quiet for a moment. Then, softly: “And someone to remind me of my name.”

Andrée squeezes her hand. “And someone to remind you who you are being for now.”

The smile fades from Josie’s face as quickly as it came. “What else did you want to tell me?”

Andrée takes a breath. “Only that I must go away tomorrow. Just for one night. I’ll be back Friday morning, I promise.”

The silence stretches. Josie stares at the piano keys.

“Where?” she finally asks.

“I need to help someone, and it means being away overnight. I wouldn’t go if it wasn’t important.”

Josie nods slowly. “Is it to do with the meetings? The people who come on Thursdays.”

“Yes.”

“And you can’t tell me about it.”

“No, I can’t. Not because I don’t trust you, but because it’s safer for you not to know. Do you understand?”

Josie picks at the edge of the sheet music, folding the corner over and back, over and back.

“When Maman sent me here, she told me to do whatever you told me. She said you would keep me safe and that I should trust you completely.”

“Your Maman was right.”

“Will you come back? Promise you’ll come back.”

Andrée wraps her arms around Josie, pulls her close. The child’s body is rigid at first, then slowly softens, melting into the embrace.

“I promise. I will always come back to you. Always.”

“What if something happens? What if the Germans⁠—”

“Nothing will happen. I’m very careful. We all are. And Grand-Mère and Grand-Père will be here with you the whole time. You won’t be alone. I’ll also be bringing someone home with me, but just for a few days.”

Josie draws away, wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Can we have a lesson tomorrow too? Before you go?”

“What a good idea. We can have one in the morning, before school.”

A small smile. “So two lessons?”

“Two lessons. And when I come home on Friday, I’ll listen to you play this all the way through, no stopping, no matter how many mistakes.”

“Even if I play it terribly?”

“Even then. Because that’s what family does. We listen to each other, even when we’re not perfect. I know we’re not your family, Josie, and we would never try to replace them, but for now, we’re your pretend family.”

“I do call you Tata.”

“Yes, you do, and I will be your Tata for as long as you want me to be.”

Josie turns back to the piano. Her fingers find the keys again, and this time the opening notes of “Arabesque” fill the apartment with a confidence born of love.

Thursday morning arrives gray and cold. Andrée wakes to find Josie already at the piano, still in her nightdress, playing scales. Not “Arabesque,” not anything difficult. Just scales, up and down, methodical and precise.