“Father Bernardi and I did consider telling them. We did. But it’s imperative that we keep your true identity a secret.”

“Don’t you trust them?” she asked, suddenly nervous.

“We do,” Father Bernardi answered. “Neither of them would ever betray you. The greater problem is the difficulty of keeping such a secret when there are young children about. They listen to everything, you know, and Carlo is still in school, and as you’ve seen he is a talkative little fellow. It would only take one slip, one careless word overheard at supper, to doom us all. It also doesn’t help that his teacher is the worst sort of fascist mouthpiece.”

“I agree,” Nico said. “Far better that only the three of us know the truth.”

He and Father Bernardi were so matter-of-fact about it. As if it was an everyday thing to offer her shelter. As if it wasn’t something that could lead to their imprisonment or worse.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, turning to Nico. “My father is friends with Father Bernardi—not you. Yet you’re risking so much for me. For a stranger.”

“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t offer to help you? And you were only a stranger before I met you.”

“Most men would look away.”

“I can’t account for their decisions. I can only do what I know to be right. And I do believe we’ll be successful. Mezzo Ciel is a quiet place. No one will come looking for you here.”

“You are safe here,” Father Bernardi insisted. “But I do have something to ask of you, something rather difficult. I’m afraid you will have to attend Mass while you’re here.”

Of course. She should have known to expect such a thing. Even the kindest Gentiles believed they were doing Jews a favor when they impelled them to embrace Christianity. “Are you saying I have to convert?” she asked, her throat tight with horror.

His shocked expression was encouragingly genuine. “Goodness, no. No—I would never ask such a thing of you. You need only attend and make a show of following along. Your thoughts and beliefs are yours to own. As the Lord is my witness, I swear this to you.”

She believed him. She did. So why did she have to fight off tears?

“We ought to be getting back,” Nico said, and if he’d noticed that she was struggling, he didn’t embarrass her by mentioning it. “We won’t win over my sister by being late for supper.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll see you both on Sunday.”

Only then did Nina think to ask Father Bernardi one last question. “If you hear anything of my parents?”

“I shall let you know straightaway. That I promise.”