“I know only the things you’ve already read,” the manager replied in English, apparently recognizing Liv’s accent. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”

So when Grandma Edith swept out of her bedroom at eleven thirty in a cloud of perfume, her eyes twinkling as she suggested a lunch out, Liv was relieved. Perhaps this meant her grandmother was ready to reveal what had compelled her to bring Liv here. Liv was increasingly sure that it had to do with the mysterious Edouard Thierry.

“I have to make just one stop before we eat,” Grandma Edith said as they headed out of the hotel into the late morning sunshine. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s just a short walk.”

They strolled in companionable silence for a while, passing the enormous church that Liv could see from her window, which looked just like Notre-Dame in Paris. “When I first came to Reims,” her grandmother said, stopping to let a group of schoolchildren pass, “the cathedral hadn’t yet been entirely rebuilt. It was decimated during the First World War. It’s incredible to see it now in such wonderful shape.”

Liv looked up at the massive building in confusion. Its soaring twin towers filtered the sunlight, while hundreds of statues looked down on them from high overhead. A carving of Jesus hanging from the cross above the entrance to the left looked like it had been there for hundreds of years. “What do you mean it was decimated?”

Grandma Edith pursed her lips. “They don’t teach any of this in your American schools, do they? You see, this was one of the hardest hit areas in all of Europe during the Great War. The front line was just a few kilometers outside town, and Reims might as well have had a target painted on it; the city was bombed so often and so severely that the people who lived here moved their schools, their hospitals, their whole lives, into the crayères—the old chalk quarries, which are used for champagne storage—beneath the earth. More than eighty percent of the city was completely destroyed, and the cathedral itself suffered very heavy damage.”

“Really? You’d never know from looking at it.”

“Yes, well, we don’t all wear our scars on the outside,” Grandma Edith said. “But if you look closely, you can see the chips in the stone from the shelling. This whole city was a different place then. Do you notice all the art deco buildings? The ones that look a bit like they belong in Miami Beach rather than rural France?”

Liv nodded. The juxtaposition of the old and new had struck her from the start.

“That’s because so much of what is here today was constructed just after the war, in the 1920s. That was the style at the time.”

“Were you here in the twenties, then?” Liv asked.

“Don’t be daft. I was just a small child then.”

“Well, I never knew until yesterday that you’d spent any time in Reims at all, so forgive me for not having your mysterious time line straight,” Liv grumbled.

“If you have a question, just come out and ask it.”

“Fine. Let’s start with something simple. You lived here for a while, right? How old were you when you got to Reims?”

Grandma Edith narrowed her eyes, and Liv was sure she wasn’t going to answer, but then she said softly, “Eighteen. It was 1938.”

“So did you come here with Edouard?” Liv pressed. “Or did you meet him when you got here?”

“Don’t pretend you understand the past.” Grandma Edith picked up the pace, turning right onto the rue du Trésor.

“I’m not,” Liv protested. “I understand none of this. That’s the point. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to you.”

“And I am trying to tell you,” Grandma Edith countered. “It is what I brought you here for, Olivia. But you have to let me do it in my own time.” Before Liv could reply, her grandmother stopped abruptly in front of a squat brown building and pushed the intercom button to the right of the entryway. A buzzer sounded, unlocking the door, and Grandma Edith pushed it open. “Wait here. I just have to deliver something upstairs.”

Liv glanced at the small plaque to the right of the front door: Cohn Société d’Avocats. It was, Liv realized, Julien Cohn’s law firm. “I’ll come with you,” she said.

“No. This is a private matter.” Grandma Edith hurried inside, letting the heavy door swing closed behind her.

Liv tried the door, but it was locked, so she buzzed upstairs, hoping she would be granted entrance as easily as her grandmother had been.

“Your grandmother says she’ll be down shortly,” said the tinny female voice that came through the intercom.

“Oh. Merci,” Liv replied, feeling foolish.

When Grandma Edith reappeared a few minutes later, Liv was surprised to see Julien a few paces behind her. “Well, hello,” he said with a smile.

“Hi.” She could feel her cheeks suddenly flaming, and she turned away, embarrassed. What was wrong with her?

“Your grandmother mentioned you two were going to lunch,” he said, “and she invited me along.”

“Um, okay.”

“Manners, Olivia,” Grandma Edith said sharply. She turned and began walking before adding over her shoulder, “Julien is our guest.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.” It wasn’t that Liv minded the charming, perfect-haired lawyer joining them; it was just that if Julien came along, it was unlikely Grandma Edith would be spilling any secrets. Liv gave Julien a small, polite smile as they fell into step behind Grandma Edith, who was bulldozing through the pedestrians clogging the crowded sidewalk.