Page 97

“I’ll just have a bite of the bread, please have the rest,” she whispers.

“We will make a pact with you. One bite now, but two bites tomorrow morning,” Stéphanie says with a forced smile.

Josie nods and takes a tiny mouthful.

“You’ll sleep in Monique’s room. You’ll be safe here.”

Safe. The word feels like a lie. How can she be safe when her family is gone? When the people she loves are in the hands of the Militia?

They come for Andrée in the night. She doesn’t know what time; there are no clocks, no windows, no way to mark the passage of the hours. Just darkness and waiting.

Two guards drag her from the cell and march her down a corridor. Her legs shake from sitting so long on the cold stone floor. They take her to a room bathed in bright light. There is a table, some chairs, and a man sitting behind the table, smoking.

“Mlle Levallois. Please, sit.”

She sits. The chair is metal, cold through her dress.

“I am Captain Vernet. I have some questions for you.”

She doesn’t respond.

“You and your parents have been very busy. Distributing forged documents. Meeting with known operatives. Working against the occupying forces. Quite the family enterprise.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smiles with his mouth only. “Of course you don’t. No one ever does. But we’ll talk; we have all the time in the world. And eventually, Mlle Levallois, you’ll tell me everything.”

The questions begin. Names? Addresses? Meeting places? Who do you work with? Where do they live? What are they planning?

Andrée gives him nothing. Not a single name. After an hour—or is it two?—Captain Vernet stands.

“We’ll continue in the morning. Perhaps after a night without sleep, you’ll be more cooperative.”

They take her back to the cell. But they don’t let her sleep. Every hour, guards come and bang on the door or shine their flashlights in her face. They shout more questions. They leave and then come back and do the same again, and again, and again.

By morning, Andrée’s mind is foggy with exhaustion. But she holds on to one thought: I will not betray them. I will not.

Josie slowly eats the small portion of bread she had agreed to the previous night. Stéphanie passes her a bowl of warm powdered milk, offers it to her with a smile. She shakes her head. How can she eat when she doesn’t know if her family is eating? When she doesn’t know if they’re alive.

Monique sits with her but doesn’t try to make her talk. Stéphanie has told them they will not be going to school today. On Monday she will take them in and tell Mlle Évrard what has happened.

Throughout the day the two girls sit on the sofa. Sometimes they hold hands. Sometimes Monique reads aloud from books Josie doesn’t hear.

At night, Josie lies awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling. Where are they? What’s happening to them? Are they together? Do they know she’s safe?

She thinks about the last thing she said to each of them. “I love you,” to Grand-Père. A smile to Grand-Mère. A quick hug for Tata Andrée.

She didn’t say goodbye properly or tell them how much they mean to her. She didn’t know she needed to.

The interrogations continue, but with different officers now. They’re the same questions, however. Always the same questions. They try different approaches. Some guards are friendly. Others threatening. And still others, violent.

Andrée learns to retreat inside herself. To find a place in her mind where their voices can’t reach her. She thinks about music. About “Clair de Lune.” About Josie’s fingers on the piano keys.

She doesn’t think about her parents. She can’t. If she thinks about them, she’ll break.

On the third day, they show her photographs of people she knows: Agent, Dancer, Cat, and Doctor René.

“Tell us their names. Tell us where they live. Make this easier on yourself.”