“There’s nothing to forgive. Surely your parents’ greatest wish would have been to know that you were free.”

After that, there were no more words to say. Charlotte didn’t know how to believe what Lucien was telling her, but she wanted to. She wanted to forgive herself. She wanted to hope. And maybe someday, she could. But for now, the warm comfort of his body was enough. He held her and stroked her hair as she faded into sleep. The last thing she was aware of was his kiss on her forehead, lingering, comforting, telling her silently that despite everything, it was all going to be okay in the end.

CHAPTER THIRTY

November 1943

It was a brisk fall morning, and Thomas’s mission was to help escort twelve Douglas A-20 Boston bombers to their target forty miles south of Dunkirk, France. What was unusual about the mission was that in addition to escorting the bombers, Thomas and the other Spitfire pilots were tasked with flying close to enemy fighter bases in Saint-Omer for the purpose of eliciting a response that would draw attention away from the bombers’ mission. The idea was that the Huns would be so busy chasing down the fighters they’d miss the bombs being dropped on German-run munitions factories in northern France until it was too late.

“It’s dangerous, lads,” the briefing officer had told them in no uncertain terms. “Chances are that at least one of you will be shot down today. If you are, it is your duty to try to evade capture.”

Thomas knew all this, of course. And in fact, it didn’t need to be stated; it was basic self-preservation. But he also knew the escape line that had once shepherded him safely out of the country and across the Pyrenees was no longer operating as efficiently; the British embassy in Spain had sent word months ago about the breach of the network. He worried every day that Ruby had been caught up in the stings that had followed the arrests in Urrugne.

But what could he do beyond continuing to fight for the Allies? The sooner they could weaken the Nazi stranglehold on France, the safer she would be. Would it be too late, though? He couldn’t let himself consider that option.

He stood in line upon leaving the briefing room to get his standard-issue survival pack, which was more advanced than the one he’d had when he parachuted into the French wilderness. It contained a map of France printed on a silk handkerchief, some francs, some food tablets and water purification tablets, and two trouser buttons that could be assembled into a compass.

The pack was supposed to make the pilots feel prepared, but Thomas knew that once you were on the ground, if you were lucky enough to survive your plane going down in the first place, all bets were off.

They set out at midday in formations of three, joining up with three other squadrons over Britain and then climbing above 11,000 feet once they had cleared the Dover coast. Over Calais, Thomas and a few others broke away from the main group to head toward Saint-Omer. Thomas was just preparing for possible air combat—unlocking the catches on the armament, tightening his safety harness, going through a mental checklist of evasive maneuvers—when a terse voice came over the VHF. “Bandits three o’clock below.”

Thomas cursed as at least a dozen Nazi 109s materialized from the clouds.

“Attack in sections!” yelled the CO over the radio.

Thomas took a deep breath and peeled off to the right, initiating a dive. It should have been routine, but suddenly, his cockpit was on fire. He hadn’t even realized he’d been hit, but there was the attacking plane behind him, lining up to come at him again.

It turned out that wasn’t necessary. The flames were advancing quickly; the fuel tanks were less than a minute away from igniting and blowing up the plane in midair. Thomas had to get out.

He ripped off his oxygen mask and radio plug and pulled back the canopy hood. “Please, God,” he found himself murmuring as he detached his safety harness and pulled the cord to open his parachute. In an instant, he was watching his flaming jet peel away from him, trailing smoke, a Nazi fighter still on its tail.

The drift to the ground seemed to take forever. He came down in the middle of an empty field, not a soul around. Quickly, he bundled his parachute, his life jacket, his helmet, his goggles, and his gloves and buried them in the dirt, then he struggled out of his flight suit, turning it inside out like he did last time. There was still no sign he’d been noticed, so he pulled out the silk map and determined that Paris was some 140 miles away. A three-day journey if he could keep up a brisk pace. He took a deep breath, snapped his compass together, and began to walk south. To Paris. To Ruby. To the future.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

November 1943

By the time the air had turned crisp in the autumn of 1943, Ruby knew there was something going on between Charlotte and Lucien. She supposed it should have bothered her more, especially since she was the girl’s guardian, but Charlotte had sworn that she hadn’t had relations with Lucien and certainly wouldn’t, and Ruby believed her.

It wasn’t just the blossoming relationship that scared Ruby, though. It was the danger that seemed to swirl around all of them like a gathering storm. And with her role in the escape line finished, Ruby felt powerless to do anything about it. Every time she passed a Nazi soldier on the street, guilt coursed through her. She should be doing more, but how? Her only mission now was to protect Charlotte, and she had thought she was doing that to the best of her ability. But she’d forgotten, somewhere along the way, that Charlotte might not want to be protected anymore.

“You’re stifling me,” Charlotte blurted out over dinner one night.

Ruby paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Stifling you?”

“I know it’s because you care for me, but I can’t keep living my days confined in this apartment while the world goes on without me.”

“It’s my duty to keep you safe, Charlotte. I promised your parents.”

“I know. And you’ve been marvelous, Ruby. But it’s time you begin letting me make my own choices. I’m not a child anymore.”

“But you are! You’re just a girl.”

Charlotte’s cheeks turned red, and she stood abruptly from the table. “I’m not! Don’t you see that you’re doing the same thing Monsieur Benoit did to you?”

Ruby stared. “What?”

“He refused to see you for what you were. And you’re doing the same. You think you’re protecting me, but you’re taking away my right to be who I am.”

“Charlotte—”

“No, please let me finish. I can be doing something, Ruby. I can help Lucien; he has offered to teach me to forge documents. I feel like I can’t survive this war by merely being a prisoner in this apartment. I’ve tried to respect your wishes so far, but you must let me go. You must let me help. It’s what I’m meant to do; I know it.”

“But you can’t think I’m like Marcel. He refused to see me as an equal. He thought I was nothing.”

Charlotte didn’t say anything, although Ruby could hear the accusation in her silence. It stung, not least of all because there was some truth to it.

“I’ve never for a moment believed that you’re nothing, Charlotte,” Ruby said after a moment. “I know you’re resourceful and smart. It’s that I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you. I love you, and I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

“And you have. You’ve given me a home. You’ve given me a life.” Charlotte paused and leaned forward. “And I’ll owe you forever for that. But if we want to defeat darkness, we must find our own way to the light. We have to follow our hearts and accept the danger. It’s my turn to fight, Ruby. Please try to see that.”

Ruby stared at the girl for a long time. She could already see her slipping away, but it was no longer in her hands. She knew that now. She saw herself in Charlotte, and it scared her. “You must promise me that you won’t do anything foolish. You must never let your guard down. The danger is so much greater for you than it is for me.”

Something changed in Charlotte’s face, and Ruby knew the girl understood she was letting her go. “I know,” she whispered. “But don’t you see? That’s why I need to help. France has turned its back on people like me, but I can’t turn my back on France. I still believe in the goodness of mankind. I believe that things will change, but only if we’re brave enough to stand up.”

“And Lucien will be with you? He will be there to look out for you when I’m not?”

“Lucien will be with me always.”