“What is this?” she asked.

“It’s a transponder,” Louis said. “This tells them where the drop zone is.” He opened the hinged lid of the box and flipped some switches, and the equipment emitted a crackling sound. “I think it’s working. Now we wait.”

They lay back in the grass and looked up at the sky. The night was clear and filled with stars. Time moved slowly. Jean-Luc reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. She smiled into the darkness, but a ripple of sadness coursed through her. When she had first begun walking out with him, everything had seemed so simple. Now, instead of outings to town festivals and to the beach, they found themselves committing acts of subterfuge together.

“There,” Louis whispered. “I see something.”

They watched a shadow in the sky. It grew larger, drifting, and they rushed to meet it as it fell to the earth. There was a large parcel bound with straps. Louis opened it while Lisette and Jean-Luc gathered up the chute. Her heart was pounding as they loaded everything into the cart.

“We need to hurry,” Louis said, concealing the radio. They moved the rocks back into place and wheeled the cart to a stone-built borie. There, they unpacked the cache of small arms, guns, and Mills bombs, which Louis said were hand grenades. Other partisans, unknown to Lisette, would arm themselves with the fallen weapons to use against the enemy.

“Good work. We’ll soon have the Italians heading for the hills,” Louis murmured.

“And then what?” Jean-Luc asked. “Then the Germans will move in.”

“That’s why we’re stockpiling weapons,” Louis said. “Let’s go. We need to get back before dawn.” He slipped away, going off somewhere while Jean-Luc and Lisette rode the bicycle back to town. The darkness felt heavy now, the silence split by the rattle of the bike. Lisette held fast to Jean-Luc, and then dismounted as they approached the village.

A dog barked somewhere, and she recoiled. They made their way up the street toward the bridge. “I’ll wait here until I know you’re home safe,” Jean-Luc said.

The sound of footfalls froze them where they stood. Two soldiers seemed to appear out of nowhere. “What are you two doing out at this hour?” one of them demanded. “Curfew hasn’t been lifted.”

Lisette’s mouth went dry. She felt awash with guilt. “We . . . sir . . .”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Jean-Luc said. “We just wanted to be together.”

“She’s a beauty,” said the soldier. “Perhaps you will share.”

Jean-Luc planted himself in front of her. “Never. We don’t want any trouble.”

“You’re already in trouble, my friend.” One of the soldiers grabbed Jean-Luc by the arm. “What’s your name? I’m bringing you in for questioning.”

“He’s done nothing wrong,” Lisette said.

“Then he has nothing to worry about, eh? Go home, girl. Don’t break curfew again.” The two soldiers flanked Jean-Luc and took him across the bridge toward the mairie. Jean-Luc threw her a look, wordlessly cautioning her to cooperate. She was terrified for him, but what could she do?