He had to help her to sit up, for the creaking bed made sudden movement all but impossible, and then she was in his arms, and it was hard not to cry even though he was there, with her, alive and unharmed.

“I’m so glad, Nico. So relieved. If only you knew—”

“Papà was still awake when I got back. I think he was waiting up for me.”

“He told you what happened.”

“Yes. It was exactly as I feared. The men—the boys—they murdered in Bassano aren’t the only ones. They shot another fifteen or more at the barracks, and dozens more have vanished. Likely dead already.”

“Were you able to stop anyone from surrendering?”

“A few. Not enough.”

“Come to bed. You must be tired.”

At this he pulled away, just enough that he could look in her eyes. “I can’t. They’re looking for me. They’re accusing me of being a partisan.”

Panic swept over her, and for a moment she thought she might be sick. “But you aren’t. You aren’t part of them at all.” Or was he? She knew so little of what he did when he was away. Perhaps he hadn’t always been helping refugees across the mountains. Perhaps . . .

“I’m not. We relied on help from the partisans—we had to, or risk being shot if they came across us in the mountains. But I never fought alongside them. I never carried a gun. Never killed a man, apart from the two who came to the house.”

“So why are the Germans looking for you? They can’t have figured out—”

“After all this time? No. And does it matter why they want me? Everything I do when I’m away is enough to earn me a death sentence. In their minds, anyone who defies them is a bandit, and deserving of only one end.”

“Was Zwerger involved in this? That you know of? Paolo didn’t mention him.”

“I don’t think Paolo’s ever laid eyes on him. And I don’t know if Zwerger was there in Bassano. I’m not even sure that he’s the one looking for me. If he is, why hasn’t he come here? Why not wait for me to show myself? There’s no one outside—I was careful to check before I came near the house. No one in the village either, or on the roads.”

“Then stay,” she urged.

“I can’t. Not until I know who’s behind this. If it’s Zwerger . . . I’d hoped he would leave us alone. Just leave us be. But he couldn’t get past my desire to remain here and embrace this life, in all its simplicity, and all that comes with it. He couldn’t overlook my having married you. It bothers him. Disturbs him—and I’ve no idea why.”

“He’s jealous. He wants what you have.”