“You have the guns?” Madame Gaudin singsonged as she descended into the cellars, her eyes darting around nervously, as always.

“They’re just in there,” Michel replied. “Explosives this time, too.”

“Good,” Madame Gaudin said. “Good.” She glanced at Céline. “And you? I understand you helped?”

“Yes, madame.” Céline didn’t know why she felt suddenly nervous.

Madame Gaudin studied her for a moment, and Céline had the uneasy sense that the older woman was reading her like a book. Could she see all of Céline’s secrets? “Good,” Madame Gaudin said again after a long pause. She turned back to Michel. “The boys are upstairs with a cart. Why don’t you go get them? Céline and I will ready the barrels for transport.”

Michel nodded and headed for the stairs. Madame Gaudin gestured to Céline, who followed her into the cave where the arms-laden barrels were waiting.

“What you’re doing is dangerous, you know,” Madame Gaudin said as soon as Michel was gone. “You should be careful.”

Céline took a deep breath. “But it’s the same work you’ve been doing all along, madame,” she said. “I want to be useful, too.”

Madame Gaudin’s eyes bore into hers. “I wasn’t talking about your work with the Resistance. I was talking about the romance between you and Monsieur Chauveau.”

Céline could feel herself turning red. “How did you—”

Madame Gaudin held up a hand to stop her. “I remember what it was like to be young, and I know that the heart wants what it wants. But there’s danger in betraying those close to us, especially in times like these.”

Céline swallowed hard, guilt coursing through her like a river. “I know.”

“I know you love him. I can see it in your eyes. He loves you, too, I think.” She sighed. “But you’re on treacherous ground.”

She turned away before Céline could reply. Céline took a few deep breaths to steady herself before following Madame Gaudin into the cave where the arms were hidden. Madame Gaudin gestured to a barrel and began to roll a second one into the hall.

“Where do the guns go from here?” Céline asked abruptly after the silence between them had grown uncomfortable. “Who do you give them to?”

Madame Gaudin stopped and looked at Céline, her hands on her hips. “Questions are even more dangerous than falling in love with the wrong people.” She paused, staring at her, before adding, “You’ve never asked before.”

“I’m asking now. Please. I want to know that I’m doing some good.”

“It’s better that we only know our own role on the line,” Madame Gaudin said. “That is risk enough.” She brushed her hands off and strode out of the cave before Céline could ask another question, and by the time Céline finished pushing her own barrel into the hall, the older woman had disappeared. For the next twenty minutes, Michel and two other men came up and down the stairs, lifting barrels between them and making their way back up into the inky night.

“What did you say to Madame Gaudin?” Michel asked once the arms-laden barrels were all gone and he had descended back into the caves to get her. “She seemed upset.”

“I—I asked her what the guns were for.”

Michel raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t wise.”

“I know.” Céline hesitated. “Is she gone?”

“Yes.” Michel beckoned Céline to a stone bench in the hall. They sat together in silence. “Céline, you must know that at some point, these guns might be used to kill the enemy. The Germans, they will not listen to reason. The only conversation they understand is one that takes place at gunpoint.”

Céline nodded and closed her eyes. “I understand.” And she did. But there had to be a cost for taking a life. What did it mean for her soul that she was putting weapons into the hands of people who might use them to kill?

“What is it, Céline?” Michel asked, putting a hand on her cheek.

She opened her eyes to look at him. “Madame Gaudin knows about us.”

Michel studied her, his expression impassible. “She doesn’t miss a thing, does she?”

Céline shook her head, and as silence fell, she tried again to force the words she needed to say to the surface, the ones that would change everything. She took a deep breath. “There’s something else I need to tell you, Michel. Something important.”

He took her hand, and she wondered if he could feel how clammy it was. “What is it, my darling?”

Céline steeled herself to say the sentence she’d been rehearsing for two weeks now, ever since she had missed her time of the month for the second time. “Michel, I am pregnant.”

She held her breath as Michel stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. In the silence, she imagined that he might be regretting this complication, hating her for letting it happen. “Oh, Céline,” he said at last. “It is Theo’s?”

“No, no!” She reached for his hands. “Michel, it is yours.”

He squeezed her fingers tightly, his eyes widening. “You are certain?”

“Yes.” She didn’t explain, but she knew she was right. She hadn’t had relations with Theo in months, although as soon as she had realized, she had rushed to lie with him, which she knew made her the worst person in the world. It was the only answer, though, wasn’t it? What else would happen if her belly began to swell without his involvement? Certainly he would understand immediately who the father was, and who knew what kind of revenge he might take? No, there were too many deadly secrets at the Maison Chauveau to risk it. “Are you angry?” she asked when Michel still hadn’t said anything.