She hurried across the living room and yanked the door to her apartment open. A policeman was waiting in the landing like a hulking spectre in his black uniform and square hat, tapping a baton impatiently against the palm of his hand. He turned to stare at Estelle.

“What is this?” she demanded. “What is going on?”

“We’re here to collect the Jews,” he said, leering at Estelle’s attire. “They’re being relocated.”

She pulled her robe more tightly around her as her eyes flew to Rachel’s door. It was wide open. “Where?”

“What difference does it make to you? Go back inside. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Those are my neighbours.” Her family.

“And they are Jews,” he spat. “Stay out of it unless you want me to arrest you.” He cracked the baton against Rachel’s doorframe. “Hurry up!”

Rachel appeared, her lip split and swelling.

“Where is the child?” Another policeman was behind her, consulting what looked like a long list of names on a clipboard.

“Died,” said Rachel. “Two weeks ago. Of a fever. There was no medicine.”

“There is a child’s bed and things in the apartment,” the second policeman said.

“Because I can’t bear to put them away yet,” Rachel hissed at him.

The man in the landing cracked his baton against the doorframe again, loudly enough to make Estelle jump. “Watch your tone,” he barked. “Or you can join the dead child.”

Serge appeared in the doorway. He had a long laceration across his temple that was bleeding profusely, blood dripping down the side of his face and splattering onto the rug at the entrance of their apartment. His spectacles were gone, though he carried his doctor’s bag in one hand, his other arm across Hannah’s shoulder. Hannah was staring at the floor and seemed oblivious to everything going on around her. He met Estelle’s frantic gaze and shook his head slightly, warning her away.

Horror and helplessness ripped through Estelle. “You can’t do this. You are a Frenchman, same as they are. They have done nothing wrong,” she cried.

Estelle didn’t see the blow coming. She reeled back against the wall, her ears ringing, the side of her face numb.

“They exist, and that is enough,” the policeman barked. “And they are nothing like we are. Get back inside.” He shoved Estelle back through her apartment door, and she fell, her head striking the tiled floor.

Everything swam before her eyes, dark spots crowding her vision.

“Search in here too!” the policeman bellowed, his voice sounding like it was coming from a distance. Estelle was aware of boots thumping past her into her apartment. She tried to sit up, but dark spots danced across her vision, threatening to obliterate it completely.

The boots returned. “No one else in here,” someone reported, and then abruptly, she was left alone.