Claire had come to stand beside her husband. Immediately, he felt her annoyance, as people do when they’ve been married for many years. Certainly, his wife was exasperated with him. He had agreed to allow refugees into their home, people she didn’t even know. On top of the unwanted visitors, Madame Lévi had discovered the housemaid was missing. When she pursued the matter, she found Marianne’s room was neatly made up, her four gray uniforms pressed and hanging in the wardrobe.

“Can you cook?” Madame asked Ava now that she’d realized they were without help. Above all else, she was practical. Perhaps the current situation could serve them both.

“I can as well as anyone else,” Ava responded.

Pleased by this news, the professor’s wife changed her mind. “They can have the maid’s room.” At least for now was not said aloud but her meaning was clear.

“But where will Marianne be?” the professor asked, confused.

“Marianne has deserted us,” Madame Lévi informed her husband. She turned to Ava. “So it’s up to you to keep us fed while you’re here.”

Ava learned new skills in the blink of an eye. She began to cut up cabbage for Bobeshi’s Hardship Soup, an easy recipe that took ingenuity and little else. Lea looked for spices in the cabinets, then chopped up celery discovered in the larder. She continued to dwell on what a strange companion she had. Her hatred had been replaced by curiosity and mistrust. “Do you really know how to cook?” she asked Ava.

“It’s simple enough.”

Still, Lea was wary as she thought of Ava sinking to her knees, kissing the hand of the girl she had called her maker. Why would her mother send her away with such a person? “Have you ever cooked before?” she asked.

“Having done something doesn’t mean you’re good at it.”

Lea touched the locket she wore. She suddenly felt as though she were a little girl, abandoned on a street corner or in a marketplace, straining to see through the crowds so she could find her mother. She heard her mother’s voice inside of her.

Heart of my heart, love of my life, the one loss I will never survive.

“You’ve stopped working,” Ava said, motioning to Lea. “Carrots are next.”

Lea rinsed a bunch of small carrots and began to chop. The red-haired girl on the train had told Ava to act like any other woman. Lea gazed at Ava now, who tasted a pinch of salt, her mouth puckering slightly, before she spat the salt into the sink. She did not seem like any other woman.