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Josie nods, not trusting herself to speak.

“Second, I want to tell you something. There is no difference, Joséphine. None. Not between Jewish people and any other race, culture, or creed. We are all human. We all deserve dignity. We all deserve safety. Every single one of us. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mademoiselle.”

“Good. Because I want you to remember that. On days when people like Céline try to make you feel small, make you feel different, make you feel less than . . . I want you to remember that you are not. You are a student at this school. You are under my protection. And while you are on these grounds, no one will harm you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mademoiselle. Thank you.”

“Now off you go; break is over.”

As Josie closes the door behind her, Marie-Thérèse sighs deeply. She always knew this day would come. She has been prepared for it. She hopes her talk with Céline will be enough. Enough to remove the threat to Josie and the other Jewish girls she protects. But she can’t be sure.

Chapter Eighteen

It’s the school summer break, and Josie has to be forced away from the piano to spend time outside. Only invitations from Monique and visits from Dancer and Philippe can tempt her away with any enthusiasm.

Summer lingers, oppressive and airless. Paris swelters. Josie practices piano with the windows open, her hair pinned up off her neck, her dress sticking to her back, sweat dripping onto the keys, salty droplets staining the ivory.

The food situation worsens with terrifying speed. Ration cards buy less each week. A loaf of bread that once fed the family for two days now barely covers one. Tina waits in lines for hours, in the August heat, all for half a kilo of potatoes. The grocer apologizes. It’s all he has.

“They’re starving us out,” Agent says at the Thursday meeting, his voice flat with exhaustion. “The Germans are taking everything. Shipping it back to the Fatherland. Leaving us with scraps.”

“Then we steal it back,” Félix replies, leaning forward, eyes bright with anger. “We raid their supply depots. We sabotage their shipments. We make them pay for every potato they steal from us.”

Their intelligence-gathering shifts focus. They now have a new target: German food depots. Félix agrees to recruit students at the Sorbonne for the raids. The students don’t need to know about the network. The promise of a share of the food will be enough. And there’s always the motivation of annoying the enemy, as long as they don’t get caught.

Doctor René’s forgery operation expands. Fifty documents a month now, each one perfect, each one a lifeline. Cat continues his reconnaissance missions, deeper into enemy territory, closer to discovery. Dancer transmits constantly, her windows open to dissipate the heat, the radio under a loose floorboard that she can kick into place if footsteps pound up the stairs.

It’s Saturday morning. Tina and Andrée go about their daily chores, listening to Josie play Chopin’s “Raindrop Prelude.” They work in silence, the notes carrying them to another world. Tina has secured an egg from an unknown source and is creating an omelette for lunch, using flour and a scraping of suet. She beats air into the egg, but how will it ever be enough to feed four? Swedes are roasting in the oven, their most frequent daily fare. Andrée has been out and lined up for their ration of bread and returned triumphant with a small pat of butter and some cheese. Louis is out at a meeting.

They ignore the small error Josie makes, but not her muttered, “Come on, Josie. Get it right.”

“We need to find something else for her to do; this heat wave is stifling. And with school closed, we’re not getting the lunchtime meal for her, or the vitamin bars. Thank goodness we’re able to grow some vegetables in the square,” Tina moans.

“I keep dreaming about getting the poor girl out of Paris. Do you think Tata Sophie would let me bring her to Barbizon to stay with her for a week?”

Sophie is Tina’s oldest and best friend, whom Andrée thinks of as her aunt.

“Sophie would love to see you anytime, and that includes Josie. Write to her suggesting the week after next. Some time in the countryside could be just what the two of you need.”

“I’ll do it right away. I won’t tell Josie until it’s confirmed—don’t want to get her hopes up. Papa should be back soon; I wonder what he’ll have for us this week?”

“He had so much mail to give Colonel Pallas he might be going through it to make sure there isn’t anything in there for us. We are lucky to have Maurice looking the other way as we get so much mail.”

“He’s a good man.”

“Are you still going to see René this afternoon?”

“Yes. He wants me to meet a friend of his—Jacques. He vouches for him, so we must trust him.”

“Is this the official that works at the Mairie?”

“Yes. He’s joining Doctor René in the counterfeit documents department.”

Tina laughs. “It’s an official department, is it?”

“That’s what I’m calling it. Jacques has access to the official seals we need to authenticate identity cards and the ration coupons we’re producing. I should start receiving more soon, and we can get the others to distribute them among the other cells. We were saved by his excellent work: I suspect it’s where Josie’s papers and ration card came from.”