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Josie wipes her eyes. “I don’t know if I remember any happy pieces.”

“Then play something that makes you feel less sad. Can you do that?”

Josie thinks, flips through the Bach notebook, finds a page. The Minuet in G major, the companion to the piece she played before. Same structure, different key. Major instead of minor. Light instead of dark.

She begins to play. The notes are still careful, still measured, but there’s something hopeful in them. Something that reaches for joy even when joy seems impossible.

As Andrée listens, watching Josie’s fingers dance over the keys, she thinks about what lies ahead. The files have been delivered and the transmissions scheduled. The film rolls are safely with Gypsy. These are small victories, small acts of resistance, but added together, they become a powerful instrument of defiance.

But none of it is more important than this child and keeping her safe.

Andrée makes a silent promise, not to Josie this time but to herself. She will be more careful with her promises. She will only make the ones she can keep. Because Josie has lost too much already.

The music continues, filling the apartment. And for this moment, right now, it sounds like hope.

Chapter Fifteen

“Would it be too much to ask for spring to come early this year?” Tina laments.

Outside, the day remains gray and damp. Now three months into the new year, the cold weather has kept both citizens and the occupiers indoors. Reports of abuse and abductions plateaued throughout the winter. Raids on homes, however, have increased.

But as temperatures rise, simply being on the street becomes dangerous. The feared Militia hunt in packs, inflicting their bully-boy tactics and open violence on anyone they encounter.

Everyone suddenly feels weak. They have no energy for the simple tasks they once took for granted, walking to the shop for rations or taking children to school. It had crept up on them slowly. They hadn’t read the signs that deprivation and the wrong sort of food were quietly sapping the strength needed to get through each day. Louis has taken to making Tina lie down and rest most afternoons. His fear for the woman who is his whole life can no longer be hidden. It is clear for Andrée to see. Josie notices too.

It is Saturday. No need for anyone to rush anywhere. There’s no school and the bookshop is closed. The Levallois family is enjoying the small baguette, warmed in the oven, divided equally between them. Today there is cheese. And in the center of the table, on one of Tina’s finest plates, a single pear stands to attention.

The knock on their front door late yesterday evening had Andrée send Josie to her room. The adults went to the door together.

“Who is it?” Louis had called out with a bravado he hadn’t truly felt.

Andrée and Tina held hands. The three of them determined to face whoever was on the other side of the door together. United.

“It’s me, Maurice. I have something for you.”

Together they mouthed the name “Maurice.”

“Somebody dropped it off and asked me to get it to you straight away.”

“This is highly unusual,” Louis whispered as he opened the door to the concierge.

“I’m sorry to disturb you at such a late hour. I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

“Maurice, no, no, of course not. More surprised than frightened,” Louis lied. “Come in, please, let me close the door behind you.”

Maurice stepped inside the apartment as Louis peered down the corridor. No one was watching.

“Somebody rang the front doorbell, and when I opened up, he thrust this package into my hands and asked me to deliver it to you straight away. And here I am,” the concierge explained.

“Did you know this person?” Tina asked, the concern in her voice evident.

“No, never seen him before. He’s not . . . not one of the usual gentlemen who visit you . . . for piano lessons.”

Louis took the package from Maurice. “Thank you, Maurice. It is very kind of you to deliver it to us, and I’m sorry you were disturbed at this hour.”

Andrée stepped in front of her father, the warmth of her smile genuine. “Yes, thank you, Maurice. We are most grateful.”

“You’re very welcome. I will do anything for you. Just ask. I know it is an extra burden, having your . . . niece staying with you.”