She sat paralyzed in the anemic light of early dawn, disbelief warring with a sense of fatalistic resignation. This is how it would end, then. She would be arrested with an injured airman hidden behind her wall, and all her efforts at subterfuge, all her attempts at capricious coquetry and genteel eccentricity, would not save her from the fate that was charging up the stairs from below.

She sucked in a ragged breath and forced herself from her bed, pulling on a robe. Pointless that she should wish to preserve some sort of modesty given what she would face. She glanced at the wardrobe but made no move to open it. The airman was under strict orders to stay where he was no matter what he heard. Once they took Estelle away, provided they didn’t find him, there was at least a chance for him to escape when she was gone. Someone in the network would know that he was with Estelle and come looking once news of her arrest got out—

Fists hammered on the door. Estelle stood immobile outside her bedroom, trying to understand what was happening. Because it wasn’t her door they were pounding on. It sounded like the noise was coming from the floor below her, echoing loudly up the staircase. Swiftly, she made her way through her apartment to her front door and cracked it open. The chaos from the floor below continued, and now the shrieks of women and the wailing of children added to the din.

Across the hall, the Wylers’ door suddenly flew open, a rumpled Rachel dragging a sleepy Aviva by the hand.

“Rachel? What is happening?” Estelle croaked.

“They’ve come to take us.”

“Take who?”

“Jews.” Rachel’s face was pale.

“Who, Serge?”

“And the women and children too. I need you to hide Aviva. Where you’ve hidden our paintings.”

“What?”

“Hide her.” Rachel shoved Aviva through Estelle’s door. “Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

“What?” Estelle grasped Aviva’s hand tightly in hers. The little girl’s face crumpled as she looked up at her aunt.

“Promise me you won’t let them find her. I’ll come back when I can to get her. But I need you to promise me you’ll take care of her until then.”

“Yes,” Estelle whispered. “Of course. I promise.”

Rachel nodded and, without another word, turned and fled back across the hall. Estelle closed her apartment door as Aviva started to cry. Estelle crouched down. “Be brave,” she said to the little girl. “Can you do that for me?”

Aviva looked up at her with tearful eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Something shattered below, followed by the terrifying thunder of more boots coming up the stairs.