The sky had begun to lighten by the time she emptied her bucket for the last time, but she still had to carry the pail of sand, now revoltingly black, uphill to the stream. She knelt at the water’s edge and dumped it out in one disgusting, claggy splash. The water flared red for an instant and then flowed bright and clear. If only it were so easy to wash away memories.

The look on Meier’s face. The sound as the knife came searing forward through his throat. The terrible knowledge in his eyes. He had known he was about to die. He had known, and he had been frightened, and she had stood by and let it happen.

Rosa was sitting alone in the kitchen when Nina returned. Her knife, washed clean, was on the table.

“It was my best knife,” she said as Nina came in. “I don’t know how I’ll ever use it again.”

Nina wasn’t sure how to answer. “The sand is gone,” she said instead.

“Good.”

“Did he hurt you?” she thought to ask.

“Not badly. Only my knees where I fell. They’re a bit bruised. And there’s a cut on my lip. Just in the one spot. From . . . well. You know.”

“Is it safe to take them something to eat?” Nina asked, remembering the family upstairs.

“Not yet. Not until the men return.”

She would wait for Nico outside, under the olive tree. It was strange to be idle—she ought to have been knitting or doing the mending—but her hands were still shaking, and her skin was raw from the hours of scrubbing, and all she could bear to do, in that moment, was wait for him to come home to her.

She sat there for at least an hour, so exhausted it was hard work just to remain upright. Simply sat and watched the stars vanish from the brightening sky. And then, when she had almost lost hope, the four of them came around the side of the house, and Aldo took Bello straight to the stables, and the boys went into the kitchen. She heard, as if from a distance, Rosa’s words of concern as she fussed over them and insisted they change and wash and eat some soup.

Nina was aware of the others, but her attention was entirely focused on Nico. He sank down on the stool next to hers and let his head loll back against the rough brick.

“We took them into the hills. There’s a cave there, far from the road, and we dug a hole at the very back of it and buried them. If we’d had more time we’d have filled in the entrance, too.”

“Won’t the Germans wonder what happened to them?”