Céline opened her mouth to reply, but a faint sound from overhead stopped her. It was an approaching vehicle, and as she and Inès both looked toward the ceiling of the cellars, a bad feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. “It’s too early for Michel and Theo to be returning,” Céline said.

“You’re right.” They exchanged glances and, without another word, headed for the stairs.

They were aboveground by the time an unfamiliar black coupe stopped in front of the main house. A broad-shouldered man in a spotless German officer’s uniform, his jackboots gleaming in the sunshine, unfolded himself from the car. Shading his face with his right hand, he peered around until he spotted them. He smiled thinly, his mouth twisting beneath his narrow mustache, and Céline felt ill when she recognized him as Hauptmann Richter, the German who had threatened her—and pawed her through her blouse—the previous September.

“Ah,” he said, his smile broadening but not quite reaching his small, dark eyes. He slammed the door of his car shut and strode over to the women. “Just who I was looking for.”

Céline tried to arrange her features into a pleasant expression. “Hello, Hauptmann Richter.”

“So you remember me. Very good.” He stopped in front of her, glancing once at Inès and then turning his full attention back to Céline. “Where are your husbands?”

Céline hesitated, but there was no point in lying. It was clear the men weren’t there. “Out,” she said. “Inspecting a vineyard.”

“They’ll be back at any moment,” Inès added quickly, and Céline felt a small surge of relief as Inès moved closer to her, until their arms were touching.

“Then it appears we are alone for now.” Richter was only looking at Céline.

“What can we do for you?” Inès asked loudly.

He kept his eyes focused on Céline. “I just wanted to make sure you’d heard the news.”

Just then, there was a noise in the distance, followed a few seconds later by the appearance of Michel’s trusty old Citro?n chugging down the drive toward the house, enveloped as usual in a cloud of exhaust. Céline’s sigh of relief must have been audible, for Richter’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, how fortunate,” he said. “Your men have returned. I’ll be able to speak with all of you.”

Céline’s heart lurched as the Citro?n screeched to a halt just feet from them. Michel jumped out of the driver’s seat, while Theo alighted from the passenger side. “What can we do for you, Hauptmann Richter?” Michel said, his tone even. But his eyes were wild and worried.

“Ah, Monsieur Chauveau, we meet again.” He turned his gaze to Theo. “And you? You are the husband of this Jewess?”

Theo frowned and nodded. Céline wrapped her arms around herself, feeling suddenly cold, even in the thick summer heat.

“And you are a Jew, too?” Richter continued.

“No, of course not.” Theo’s reply was too fast, too adamant, and though it was true, it felt like a slap across Céline’s face. “Besides, she’s only half Jewish,” Theo added quickly, and Richter chuckled.

“Is that how you justified marrying a mischling?” He licked his lips and turned his gaze back to Céline. “Well. I have come to make sure you had heard about the Jews we took away from Champagne this week.”

Céline couldn’t trust herself to speak. She glanced at Michel, whose eyes were trained on Richter. She couldn’t read his expression, but his stillness scared her.

“Of course, but it was only foreign-born Jews,” Theo said into the uncomfortable silence.

Richter’s gaze didn’t move from Céline. “For now.”

“I was born in France,” Céline said, her voice shaking, and Richter chuckled again.

“And that is why your name was not on our list. This time.” Finally, he turned his attention to the men and nodded slightly. “I just wanted to make sure you were aware. I’ll leave you to it.”

He turned without another word, climbed back into his little car, and roared away.

It was Theo who spoke first. “What in the hell was the meaning of that?” Theo glared at her as if Richter’s unsettling behavior had been her fault.

“Enough,” Michel said quietly. He glanced at Céline. “The best thing we can do now is to not show the Germans our fear or our anger.”

“But—” Theo began.

Michel held up his hand. “It is clear that this Richter fellow is aware of Céline. We must keep our ears to the ground about any movement against French-born Jews, all right?”

Céline and Inès nodded. Theo was still angry. “Come, Céline,” he said. “Let’s go home.” He took her arm and steered her toward their house before she could respond. Céline looked over her shoulder as they went and saw Michel watching them with a frown.

Theo started in on her as soon as they were out of Michel’s and Inès’s earshot. “Why did the German seem so interested in you?” he demanded.

“What are you implying?” Céline stared at him in disbelief.

Theo didn’t answer. His face was red, his eyes wide and angry. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think you should go south. Michel has contacts in the zone libre.”