“What are you planning?” Céline asked. She thought of the rifles that he had delivered to Madame Gaudin just last week. “Please, Michel, don’t do anything that you’ll regret.”

His smile was exhausted. “You know it is too late for that.”

Céline looked away. “Then just come home to me safely.”

Michel leaned in and kissed her then, slowly, tenderly. “My Céline,” he said. “All I want is the chance to come home to you for the rest of my life.”

? ? ?

Céline couldn’t sleep after bidding Michel goodbye, and she was in the kitchen before dawn, boiling water for ersatz coffee. The sun had just come up when she saw through the kitchen window a vehicle at the end of the lane, driving toward the main house. Her heart leapt to her throat before she recognized Edith’s car. She glanced at the clock. It was barely eight.

She watched as the car pulled up, but Edith didn’t drive away when Inès went inside the house. After a few minutes, Inès reemerged, glanced around, and hurried down the drive toward Céline’s cottage. Céline’s mind spun. Should she claim ignorance about Michel’s absence? Or try to come up with an excuse to explain it?

By the time Inès knocked on her front door, Céline had pasted on a smile. “Good morning!” she chirped, perhaps too cheerfully. “What brings you back so early?”

“Oh. I just wanted to get home.” Inès avoided her gaze. “Is Theo around? I can’t find Michel.”

“Actually, Theo is still asleep.”

Inès checked her watch. “My goodness, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the time.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. But it seems strange that Michel is not home.”

“He had to go meet with a vigneron,” Céline blurted out.

“So early? And in January?”

Of course it had been a silly excuse; very little happened in the vineyards when the vines were under a veil of ice. “I’m not sure what it was about, but it seemed important.”

Inès’s eyebrows drew together. “Well, which vigneron was he going to meet? Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“No, I don’t know.” Céline expected Inès to shrug and return to her own house then, but the woman lingered in her doorway, biting her lip, and finally, Céline said, “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Inès didn’t answer right away. “Can I trust you, Céline? I mean, really, really trust you?”

“Why yes, of course,” Céline answered before she could think of the obvious response: that she wasn’t trustworthy at all; she was a monster who slept with other people’s husbands.

“I know you are aware, too, of Michel’s, um, work in the cellars,” Inès said.

Céline swallowed hard. “Yes,” she said carefully. “But Theo is not.”

“I know. That’s why I am hoping you can help me,” Inès said, and for the first time, Céline realized the other woman was nervous, jittery.

“What is it, Inès? Has something happened?”

“I need help hiding something.”

“What do you mean?”

Inès looked at her for a long time. “Please, come with me.”

Puzzled, Céline followed Inès to Edith’s car, which still sat idling in front of the main house. As they drew closer, Céline was surprised to see two people sitting in the back seat, their heads ducked low. Edith was staring at Céline with the expression of a rabbit caught in the headlights. She rolled down her window.

“Inès,” Edith said, her voice tight, “you said you were going to get Michel.”

“He is not here,” Inès said, and Edith’s eyes flicked once more to Céline. “But Céline will help us. Michel trusts her, and so do I.”

This time, Céline could not resist flinching, but she kept her eyes evenly on Edith’s face. “Yes. You can trust me.” She glanced once more at the two figures in the back, a dark-haired man and a dark-haired woman, both with their heads still bent as if avoiding her gaze could make them invisible. Whatever this was, it was dangerous.

Edith’s expression softened, and she glanced at Céline’s belly. “It is just that I do not want to get you involved.”

“I’m already involved,” Céline said pointedly, and though she hadn’t explicitly admitted to working with Michel, Edith seemed to understand.

“Samuel, Rachel, it is all right,” Edith said, and Céline watched as the two figures in the back seat finally straightened. They were younger than she expected, maybe in their early twenties, and the woman looked frightened, while the man looked exhausted.

“Hello,” said the man.

“Hello.” Then, remembering that Theo could awaken at any time, Céline glanced back at Edith. “I’m sorry, but my husband will awaken soon, and it’s better that he doesn’t see you. How can I help?”

All at once, Edith looked worried again. “This is Samuel Cohn, and his sister, Rachel. They’re Jewish, and the Germans are after them. They just need a place to hide for a night or two before we can connect them with an escape line. I tried desperately to find another place, but it seems we are entirely out of options. This is absolutely our last resort.” She cast a look at Inès, her mouth set in a thin line, and Céline wondered what had happened between the two friends. Edith looked back at Céline as Inès turned away, blushing. “If your husband can’t be trusted, though . . .”