Lea decided she would write a note, to be ready when the heron returned. He was late this year. She imagined Julien waiting to hear from her, one hand thrown up to block the bright light as he scanned the sky, just as she did. One afternoon, as Weitz was out smoking one of his precious cigarettes, which he cut in half, so they would last longer, and Ava was in the yard hanging the laundry, Lea opened the bureau drawer in search of a pad of paper and a pen. She did not expect what she found, and her chest immediately felt hollow. There was a note, folded over itself, tucked away. She steadied herself and took it in her hands. She recognized his handwriting right away.

Come here as soon as you can.

She turned over the paper, her heart pounding.

There was the map. He’d sketched Beehive House, and the winding rutted road, and the pastures filled with flowering genêts. In her hands was the barn and the stone house with its tilted chimney and white shutters, the goat named Bluebell, and the beehives in the field. It had been here in this drawer for months.

Lea waited until after dinner, when Weitz went outside to paint in the yard in the last of the day’s light. Then she put the map on the table.

“When did this arrive?”

Ava glanced at the map. She felt a wave of shame and confusion, emotions she was not supposed to have.

“You decided to hide it from me?” Lea said.

“The heron came back just after winter, but the time wasn’t right.” The lie burned her tongue and she flushed, something she had never done before.

“The heron has been back all this time!” Lea’s mouth tightened. “It’s not winter now, and still you kept a message that was meant for me. You stole it!”

Ava had often regretted asking the heron to carry Lea’s and Julien’s messages. She’d thought there would be no harm in it, but she was wrong. “You may not understand everything I do.”

“I understand perfectly. You want to keep me away from Julien, because I’ll leave with him, and you don’t want me to cross the border.”

“But I do,” Ava insisted. “I promised your mother I would get you to safety.”

“And yet we’re still here.” Lea held Ava in her gaze. “You and I know why. You don’t want to do what you promised my mother because you know what happens once I’m safe.” Every word Lea spoke was brittle, a sharp broken hook. “You’ve known all along. You know what she wants me to do.”

“I want the best for you.” Ava felt something sharp inside of her. By now she knew that people always lost what they loved most.

“I don’t care,” Lea cried. “I’m leaving here. I’m following the map.”