Her shrill voice brought Simone back to earth. She turned toward the Germans, Jürgen and his rosy cheeks. Rebeka unfolded her arms from where she’d been lurking in the shadows and stepped closer, eyebrows drawn.

“Why do they need Ilse at the castle?” Rebeka asked.

“They captured a Jewish boy inside the castle compound. Apparently he’d made his way into Dr. Kreutzer’s office. Was trying to assassinate him.”

Rebeka sucked in her breath like she’d been punched in the gut. Simone felt the blow, too. She could only think of one Jewish boy stupid and angry enough to try just that.

“Kreutzer wants your assistance with the questioning,” Jürgen said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

EVANGELINE

Were it not for Simone, none of it would have happened. She would have gone to work in the Vichy alliance; she would have bowed her head and avoided any attention the Nazis shot her way. Maybe she would have allowed Stefan to court her, maybe not, but it would not have been the same. She would have been nothing but a coward then, the coward Simone believed her to be—the coward she really was.

This wasn’t bravery, even now, that compelled her to go on. It was its own cowardice, the fear of Simone actually being right.

For Simone always saw through her, saw her skeletal structure of privilege and comfort and wealth. She had worked hard to make her way to the Sorbonne, it was true; but plenty of people worked hard; plenty of people were at least as smart as she was. Only they didn’t have the silver platter of the Gaturin name, the Gaturin money, the Gaturin comforts to serve up that hard work. Simone exposed her to the bone, revealed every last layer of who Evangeline really was. Evangeline hated it; she hated what she saw when at last she was able to look at herself through Simone’s eyes.

And yet, despite it all, Simone had loved her. For a time.

God, what was she doing? Was she risking countless lives just to prove Simone wrong? To run from the person she knew she really was? She was doing the right thing, the bold and stupid thing, true, the most that could be done by anyone in her position. But it was so minuscule; it was so, so late. Even in this pathetic act of resistance, she’d now been caught.

Georges-Yves had given Stefan everything he knew. The Resistance node locations. The radio frequencies. The codes.

Simone was in the dark of the forest now, stumbling blindly, no idea that the only lifeline she had was now compromised.