“It sounds as if you are threatening me.” His calm felt eerie, dangerous to Inès.

“No, I—”

“I would hope not,” he interrupted. “It would be foolish. As I have explained to you, I am not ashamed of what I’m doing. I’m merely being practical. And what are the foolish résistants going to do anyhow, Inès? Write my name on a wall? Publish my name in a secret tract that only a dozen people will read? Who cares, Inès? They will all be executed soon enough for their treason.”

“Antoine—” she began to say, but again, he cut her off.

“Go home, Inès.” He pushed his chair back abruptly and stood. “Go home and stop playing city girl. I was a fool to become involved with you from the start, to think that you could be anything more than an insignificant whore.” He put a few coins on the bar, gave her one last hard look, and strode away, his posture rigid and angry.

Inès watched him until he walked out the door and then turned back to the bar slowly, only to realize that there were at least a dozen other patrons, half of them German officers, all of them watching her. She swallowed hard and scanned the room for Edith, but her friend was nowhere to be seen. So she summoned the bartender and ordered a dry martini. She was determined to pretend that nothing was wrong, and to linger here long enough that the men eyeing her would go back to their own conversations, their own lives, and forget all about her.

It was nearly an hour—and two cocktails—later that Edith reappeared at the back of the restaurant and beckoned to Inès. Inès quickly paid and headed toward Edith, a bit unsteady on her feet. She hadn’t realized she’d had so much to drink, but then she hadn’t eaten yet, either. The gin had gone straight to her head.

“Oh, Edith, it’s over, I think.” She leaned into her friend, and Edith grasped her upper arms, steadying her.

“Was he angry?”

Inès nodded miserably.

“You did the right thing.” But Edith looked concerned, exhausted. “Listen, something has happened. I know you need to stay with us tonight, but we have other visitors in our apartment, too.”

“Visitors? But who?”

“Come,” Edith said, something strange in her tone. “I will introduce you.”

They ascended the stairs behind the kitchen, and when Edith unlocked the door to the apartment, she didn’t turn on the light. She pulled Inès inside and shut the door. “I’m back,” she said into the room.

A flame flickered in the darkness, illuminating a man and a woman sitting on the floor. Their clothes were scuffed with dirt, their faces wan and hollowed. “Hello,” said the man. He was, Inès guessed, around her age.

“Hello,” she replied, and then looked to Edith for an explanation.

“Inès, I’d like you to meet Samuel Cohn, and his sister, Rachel. Samuel, Rachel, this is my dearest friend, Inès, who will also be staying with us tonight. You can trust her.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, madame,” Samuel Cohn said while his sister continued to study her suspiciously.

“Nice to meet you, too.” She glanced helplessly at Edith, trying to understand what was going on.

“Inès,” Edith said slowly. “Samuel and Rachel are traveling and needed a place to stay.”

Samuel cleared his throat. “To be frank, madame, we are Jews. We had word that the Germans were coming for us tonight, and we didn’t know where else to go.”

“Inès, we have helped others like the Cohns before,” Edith said. “They were told to come to us, but only in case of an emergency.”

“I am sorry it has come to this, Madame Thierry,” Samuel said. “You are very generous to take us in.”

“It is not a problem,” Edith said kindly, though Inès could see the tension creasing her friend’s forehead. “Unfortunately, with Inès staying with us tonight, too, things will be a bit cramped. I think perhaps you two can share the bedroom, and Inès can take the couch, if that’s amenable. It will be safer for them to be behind closed doors,” Edith added.

“I’m sorry, madame,” Samuel said, looking at Inès. “If there was somewhere else for my sister and me to go, rest assured we would.”

“No,” Inès said. “Please don’t worry. And call me Inès. If we are sharing quarters tonight, we shouldn’t be so formal.”

Samuel smiled. “All right. Inès, then.”

“Inès, may I have a word?” Edith asked, and Inès followed her into the bedroom Edith shared with Edouard, whom Inès hadn’t seen all evening. “I’m very sorry about these circumstances,” Edith whispered once she had closed the door behind them. “Especially because this puts you in some danger.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Inès said. “I told you I want to help.”

“I must ask you, is there any chance at all that Antoine will return tonight and try to find you in my apartment? If there is, I must look for some other arrangement for the Cohns.”

“No,” Inès mumbled. “He’s gone.”

Edith studied her. “All right. Edouard should be here soon. He is trying to find a place to hide the Cohns tomorrow. Obviously they are not safe here for long with so many Germans walking around beneath our feet.”