Cate’s heart thudded all the way down to her toes. The thickly accented word rooted her to the spot. This was it. This was her last breath, her last moment, her last chance to do the right thing.

Run. The word was like a bullet being shot through her mind. Run.

No. If I run, they’ll shoot me.

Cate inhaled deeply through her nostrils, gripping the blanket tighter around herself as her internal argument raged. She could see one faint light up ahead, a house, and she guessed there would be more.

She’d been so, so close.

The voice spoke again, but it was the glowing tip of a cigarette that caught her attention the most, followed by the sound of boots scraping that revealed two more soldiers. German soldiers. She’d walked straight into an ambush, most likely in place to catch British soldiers, not a girl on her own.

“What are you doing out here?” barked the first voice.

She tried not to quiver as he moved in front of her, another soldier moving behind her. They were close, so close she could taste the tobacco smoke rising off their cigarettes, could smell the damp of their uniforms. Cate could almost feel their hands on her, could sense their intention: a woman out on her own in the woods at night, after dark, was surely an easy target. She gulped. Would anyone even hear her if she screamed?

“He said,” the soldier behind her muttered with a snigger, “what are you doing out here?”

Cate hugged herself tighter, terrified of their words, of their hands, of their weapons. Of their sense of smugness at being three men against one defenseless woman.

“I’m looking for my dog,” she said in near-perfect French, fighting the tremble in her voice and jutting her chin high as she looked one of them in the eyes. “Have you seen him?”

CHAPTER NINE CATE

CHAPTER NINE

CATE

“Your dog?” It was asked with another snigger, with an arrogance that she wished she could smack away with her palm.

Cate had never been so frightened in her life. She nodded, giving the scowling German her sweetest smile. She could only imagine how wet and bedraggled she appeared, but at least it had started to rain again and it wasn’t completely beyond the bounds of possibility that she could have become so disheveled searching for a beloved dog. She gulped. A dog that didn’t exist, which would be a problem if they decided to help her look, although she doubted that was going to happen. She wiggled her still-squelching toes, the mud caked into her shoes.

“I’ve been searching for so long,” she replied, forcing tears that were easy to conjure, given the circumstances. “I was so worried, with the fighting so close, and I haven’t been able to find him.”