But as hard as she tried to keep her eyes averted, Cate found herself looking up, which garnered a whistle and call from the passing German soldiers. She forced a smile and a little wave, and the soldiers must have had somewhere to be, because they didn’t stop. Even so, she slipped her hand into her pocket and felt the weight of the small knife, feeling better just for knowing it was there.

When they eventually reached Lille, Cate could sense Elise’s horror at what confronted them. She’d been there before herself, and recalled it as a pretty city full of beautiful architecture, and now some of those houses had walls missing or crumbling down. She supposed the only consolation was that the town center was largely untouched.

It was hard to take in.

“I can’t believe it,” Elise murmured beside her, her footsteps slowing. “It used to be so beautiful, so . . .”

Cate linked her arm back through Elise’s, drawing her close. “And it will be beautiful again one day.” She didn’t know why she said it when she had no way of knowing, but something within her told her that it was true. There was no way Europe could be overtaken by Hitler, not forever, and she couldn’t imagine for a second that Britain would fall to his rule either.

“They’re everywhere here, so we have to be careful,” Elise said as they started to walk more purposefully again. “And if anyone asks us what we’re doing here, we’ve come to visit our uncle who’s unwell.”

The streets were deserted, other than a stray cat lying in a puddle of sunshine, and Cate’s heartbeat elevated again; she was certain they were going to be shot at or that something terrible was about to happen. Her ears were straining for every possible noise, and she jumped when a door slammed nearby.

“Calm down,” Elise whispered. “We have every right to be here, we’re not doing anything wrong.”

Maybe not, but Cate was still plagued with nerves.

“Here, his house is still intact, so that’s a good sign.” They hurried along and knocked, and even Elise fidgeted on the spot. Cate half-expected enemy troops to answer, having commandeered the place, but there was a shuffle followed by the door opening barely a crack.

“Mr. Bernard?” Elise asked, leaning toward the opening.

“Who’s asking?”

“Elise DuPont. Claude’s eldest daughter.”

The door flew open then, and an old man propped up by a walking stick beamed at Elise as if his long-lost daughter had just shown up.

“Elise! What are you doing out here? It’s not safe for you to be leaving home and traveling so far.”

“I’m fine, honestly I’m fine. We’re fine,” Elise said, gesturing back to Cate. “This is my cousin, Cate. May we come in?”