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“I can’t tell you how much that means to us, and how much we appreciate you,” Andrée told Maurice, opening the door to let him out.

Andrée joined her parents in the kitchen as the three of them gazed at the small, innocuous parcel. “Well, open it. Let’s see what a stranger out on a cold wet night has brought to us.”

“It’s food. It’s cheese. I can smell it,” Tina exclaimed, pulling the cardboard apart.

The first thing they saw was a small note. “I hope this helps. Thank you for taking a Jewish girl into your home. To save one is to save all mankind,” Tina read.

“Is it signed? Do we know who it’s from?” Andrée asked.

Tina turned over the piece of paper. “No.”

Delicately, with a reverence akin to handling something precious, Tina lifted the items from the box and placed them on the table.

Three small blocks of different cheeses. A small loaf of almost-fresh bread. Some processed sausage. A pear.

Now Josie licks her finger to dab up the crumbs on her plate, a gesture that always makes Andrée and her parents smile sadly. Louis has joked privately that if they were to leave the room before Josie finished her meager meal, she would pick up her plate and lick it. Still, the child is so thin. The daily effort to find enough food for them all is wearing them down. Andrée and her parents are engaged in a private battle over who will take the least food, all of them wanting to spare a little extra for Josie. But they know they each need sufficient calories to keep going, caring for the child, and managing their work for the Resistance.

“What would you like to do today, Josie? Or is that a silly question?” Andrée teases.

No response.

“Josie?” Andrée says again.

Louis and Tina turn to look at Josie.

The pear. Josie is fixated on the object in the center of the table, oblivious to anyone and anything else in the room. Tina reaches over and places her hand on Josie’s arm, now creeping across the table, her fingers only inches from the piece of fruit.

“Josie?” Tina says softly.

Returning her attention to the room, to the people around her, Josie turns to Tina. “What did you say, Grand-Mère?”

“I know you would love to taste the pear now, but we’re saving it. We’re having visitors this afternoon. Dancer and Philippe are coming to see us. We thought we would share it with them.”

“That’s a lovely idea. Of course we can share it with them. I can’t wait to see Philippe again. Can I show him what I can play on the piano?”

“I think he’d like that. Maybe you could give him a lesson?” Andrée suggests.

Josie laughs. “No, you’re the piano teacher in this family, not me.”

Louis and Tina exchange looks.

“I know I’m not really your family, but you make me feel like I am.”

“Dear child, you are part of our family,” Louis says gently. “Even when your Maman and Léon return and you’re no longer living with us, you will always be part of our family.”

At three o’clock, the knock comes. Josie runs to the door, opens it a crack before flinging it wide open when she sees Dancer and Philippe.

“Philippe!” She throws her arms around the boy, who hugs her back with equal enthusiasm. They haven’t seen each other since the first night of Hanukkah, but the bond formed that night remains strong.

Dancer kisses Andrée’s cheeks, embraces Louis and Tina. She looks tired, Andrée thinks. Thinner than before. The work and the lack of food and basic supplies is taking its toll on all of them.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Dancer says. “Philippe has been asking about Josie constantly. He wanted to know when he could visit.”

“Well, here you both are,” Tina says warmly. “Come in, sit down. We have something special for you.”

They gather around the table. The pear on the china plate is still positioned in the center.

“Is that real?” Philippe asks, his voice hushed.