Nico was gone, lost in the shadows again, but the other soldier was still in the kitchen. He was only meters away, and when he came upstairs and saw the blood all over the floor he would know. He would know what they had done.

“Meier?” the man called up, and he was saying something in German to his friend, and she was too panicked to even try to make out his words. “Meier?” he called again, his voice rising. Still no answer.

“You bitch,” he spat out. “What have you done with him?”

Overturning furniture. The piteous sound of Rosa’s cries. The bang of a door being flung open. Footsteps on the—

A grunt. A wheezing gasp. And then silence once more.

She rushed to the landing and looked down. Nico was crouched at the bottom of the stairs, and he was pulling his knife from the ragged remains of the other soldier’s throat. There was so much blood. More blood than she had ever seen.

She dropped her lamp. The glass shade shattered.

Nico looked up at her, his face a mask of horror. “Forgive me.”

She nodded. “What do we do?” she whispered. It seemed important to be quiet, even now. Even though the men were dead.

“Go back into our bedroom and check that everyone is hidden. Make sure they know to be quiet. I’ll get my father and the boys. It’ll be light in a few hours.”

“Should I—”

“Just listen to me. We have to move quickly or we’re fucked. Do you understand?”

Shocked by his coarse language, she nodded and returned to her bedroom. Everyone had made it up the ladder, but the trapdoor was still open. The younger man’s face appeared at it now.

“What was that?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“Do not worry. I will bring you food very soon. For now, try to sleep. And you must keep the baby quiet.”

Back in the hall, Nico had taken hold of Meier under the arms and was dragging him to the stairs. Without a word, she grasped the dead man’s boots, trying hard not to look at his face. Her hands were slippery with blood and sweat, and she kept dropping his legs, but Nico made no complaint.

They were almost at the landing when Matteo pushed past and took over. She followed behind them, unsure of what to do, certain only that there was nothing she could say that would help.

Aldo had brought out Bello, and now he helped his sons to heave the dead men onto the mule’s back. Without a word of farewell they set off across the fields, heading up into the hills, Bello’s bridle clutched tight in Aldo’s hand.

“Nina,” Rosa said, and her voice was careful. Hesitant. “The blood. You need to wash it off.”