When Julien found the nerve to introduce himself to the strangers, the young woman gave him a dark look that was so off-putting he took a step back. The girl studied him with a reserved gaze. However, when they realized he was offering food, they quickly turned their attention to devouring the plums. It was the first fruit Ava had eaten, glorious and delicious, grown in the Lévis’ garden on an old twisted tree. Lea was starving, having barely eaten since leaving Berlin, and she ate two, one after the other, before spitting the pits into the palm of her hand. Julien was pleased that his offering was appreciated, and even more pleased when the girl threw him a grudging smile. She had a chipped tooth that made her look enchanting. Everything changed when she smiled.

“We’ve been traveling,” she blurted. She’d been told by Ava to say nothing at all, but her stomach was growling. “There’s been nothing to eat. Is there anything more?” The young woman elbowed the girl, who immediately stopped talking, but not before glaring at her companion resentfully.

When the young woman shifted her gaze to look down the hall, Julien nodded to the girl and rolled his eyes conspiratorially. Lea covered her mouth, so as not to laugh aloud. They looked at each other with a tacit understanding, for then and there they made a secret pact against adults, especially the ones who told them what to do.

Julien was often arrogant and standoffish, always the smartest in his class, a far better student than his older brother, but in the past year he had changed. His emotions had been raw ever since he’d been requested to leave school, as all Jews were. As a further injury his closest friend, Bernard, had stopped speaking to him, and instead passed him on the street as though he were a stranger.

He’s showing his true colors, Victor had said. He’d never liked Bernard anyway. You’re better off without him.

But Julien had suffered after the dissolution of the friendship. He’d gone to speak to Bernard at his home, thinking it only right that he be granted an explanation. For years they’d been inseparable, but when Julien came to call, he was not allowed in the house. They’d stood in the street in the fading light and Bernard had seemed jittery, fearing they might be seen together. I don’t associate with criminals, he’d finally blurted.

How am I a criminal? Julien knew he sounded even more arrogant than usual, ready for a fight, but Bernard had shrugged, unfazed.

A Jew, a criminal, same thing.