“That’s freedom, Eva,” he whispered. “So close you can taste it.”

As she turned to search his familiar green-flecked hazel eyes, she felt dazed. “But the barbed wire… The guards…”

“Don’t worry.” He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently. “There’s a way in. We’ll go tonight just past nine, as long as the guards are on a normal patrol. In the meantime, you and the children should get some rest.”

“What about you?”

He smiled slightly. “I slept enough on the train.” He leaned in and added in a whisper, “I knew I was safe with you beside me.”

“Come,” the priest said, giving Eva a gentle smile as he beckoned to Rémy. “There’s much to be done.” To Eva he said, “See if you and the children can eat a bit and sleep. You’ll need your energy. We’ll be back after nightfall.”

Rémy kissed Eva on the cheek and then followed the priest down the ladder, which was then pushed back into the attic floor, leaving the Eva and her four charges in darkness lit only by the small window to freedom.

“Will we be all right?” asked Jacqueline, coming to sit beside Eva.

“Yes, I feel sure of it.” And for the first time since leaving Aurignon, Eva realized she believed it. Refuge was within sight, and God willing, she’d be able to help give these children a life, a future. But what about her? What about Rémy? How could she let him go back into the fight so soon after she’d found him again? She shook the questions away and put an arm around the little girl. “Come, let’s have a bit to eat, shall we?”

The children murmured excitedly to each other while they ate their bread and preserves, and they took turns peeking out the window at Switzerland. After the small meal, Eva kept watch while the children snuggled under the blankets and fell asleep. Lulled by the silence and the warmth, she eventually drifted off, too. She awoke with a start sometime later to find Rémy beside her, gazing at her with tears in his eyes. He quickly looked away.

“How long have you been there?” Eva asked. Darkness had fallen outside, and the only illumination in the attic was from the faint moonlight spilling in through the window. Around them, the children were still asleep, one of the boys snoring lightly.

“Not long,” Rémy said, his voice husky.

“What were you thinking about?”

He didn’t answer right away. “You,” he said at last. “Us. The past. The future.”

But Rémy would need to stay alive if they were to have any sort of future together. He knew that as well as she did, so she bit her tongue before she could remind him. “Where do you want to go after the war?” she asked instead.

“Eva, I’ll go wherever you are.” His voice caught on the last word, and he cleared his throat. “Enough of that. It’s time to move. The patrols on this side of the border are working at regular intervals, so the crossing should be smooth.”

“Rémy—” Eva began. There was so much to say. She wanted to tell him she loved him, that she couldn’t imagine a life without him, but somehow the words wouldn’t come.

“It’s all right,” he said after a moment. He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I know, Eva. I—I feel it, too.”

“What if I never see you again?”

“You will, Eva. I promise.”

There were footsteps on the ladder then, and Père Bouyssonie’s head appeared behind them. “It’s time,” he said. “Let’s get the children ready.”

Eva nodded and forced herself to pull away from Rémy. The feelings she’d been nursing for months, the things she didn’t have the courage to say, had no place here, not in this moment. She had only one job, and that was to see to it that four young, innocent lives were saved. And as Père Clément might have reminded her, the rest was in God’s hands.

Twenty minutes later, the children were awake and bundled back into their fraying woolen coats. Père Bouyssonie hunched in the attic facing the little group while Rémy sat beside Eva, his fingers laced with hers.

“I’ll be praying for you,” the priest said, looking at each of the children one by one, and then at Eva and Rémy. “You must be brave, and you must believe that God is watching you. I’ve seen many people make this crossing into Switzerland, and I know you’ll make it safely, too.” He glanced once more at Eva and added, “God will be with you. Always.”

Eva nodded, and Rémy squeezed her hand, and then they were in motion, heading down the ladder into the main room of the priest’s cottage. They took turns warming themselves by the stone fireplace while Rémy quickly briefed them.

“The Germans patrol the border here, but their routine is predictable, and there are gaps in it,” he said quickly, his eyes on Eva most of the time. “There are two patrols, going in opposite directions, along the road about two hundred meters from the front door. The only way to avoid them is to move to the road after the first German patrol has passed and to wait out the second; otherwise, there’s not enough time before the first patrol comes back around again. Père Bouyssonie will walk down to the road, and as soon as the first patrol has gone by, he’ll run back and give us the sign. Together, we’ll head for the road and wait in a ditch beyond until the second patrol has passed. Then you’ll all need to follow me as quickly as possible. All right?”

Eva and the children nodded their assent as Rémy continued. “Once we’re over the border, run toward the first Swiss soldier you see. They will bring you to safety. But be absolutely sure that the soldier is Swiss, not German. The easiest way to tell is that the Swiss overcoats are a much darker gray, and their helmets look a bit like turtles. The Germans wear higher boots. If you see a German soldier, with big black boots to his knees, run in the other direction, as fast as you can. Do you understand?”

One by one, the children nodded, and finally, Rémy’s eyes rested on Eva. “Once you’re in Switzerland, you must stay there until the war is over. You will be safe there. You won’t need to be frightened anymore.” The words were for all of them, but Eva heard them as an admonishment intended for her. She would be a fool, he was saying, to leave the warm embrace of neutrality to return to France. “I will come find you as soon as I can,” he said, and this time, there was no doubt that the words were for Eva. She swallowed hard and nodded. Still, though, she couldn’t bring herself to imagine that in just a few minutes, they’d be parting once more, that she might never see him again.

“I’m off, then,” the priest said. “Be waiting for my sign. Good luck to all of you. May God bless you.” And then he was gone, leaving the children alone with Rémy and Eva. The fire crackled in the space where their words should have been, and after a few minutes, Rémy beckoned to the children. “Come,” he said. “We will wait just outside Père Bouyssonie’s door. Be ready to run when he gives us the sign.”

“I’m frightened,” whispered Jacqueline.

Rémy bent to her, his tone firm. “We will be right here. We will keep you safe until you cross the border. Once you’re in Switzerland, you’re already free. You’ll each be running with just one other child to reduce the chance of exposure, and your mother here will follow behind. Go to the first Swiss guard you see, and tell him you need help.”

The girl nodded, and while she didn’t look entirely reassured, she allowed Eva to take her hand and lead her out the door with the others. Once they were on the priest’s front step, they were engulfed in thick darkness, and the icy air bit at their faces, though the wind, at least, had subsided.

“I can’t see a thing,” Eva whispered to Rémy, and he reached for her free hand.

“Your eyes will adjust,” he murmured. “Until then, remember, I’m right here.”

He was right; by the time the priest appeared at the top of the lane and gave them a wave, Eva could make out shapes in the blackness, and as they started toward the border at a jog, slow enough that the children could all keep up, a few lights up ahead, just past the barbed wire, lit the way.

They passed the priest, who didn’t say a word as they slipped past him, and when they reached the paved road, Rémy whispered, “Get down in that ditch. You’ll hear soldiers passing in just a moment. Hold your breath. I’ll tell you when it’s safe to go.”

Heart hammering, Eva did as he said, helping the children flatten themselves against the cold earth in a shallow trench that lay just beside the road. When the little girl began to whimper, Eva soothed her by holding her close. The girl’s soft crying subsided just as the thud of boots on the gravel and snow sounded nearby.