“Yes. He’s going to come do the tour with us.”

“Yes, of course he is.”

“Are you okay?”

Grandma Edith didn’t answer. In the distance, a flock of black birds took flight from beyond the slope of the hill, and Liv watched them go. It wasn’t until she lost sight of them that Grandma Edith finally spoke. “Do you ever think that the ghosts of the past are still with us? And that perhaps they’ve been here all along, to remind us of all we have lost?”

Liv followed the older woman’s eyes back out to the long rows of vines, and for a moment, she thought of her own father, whom she’d barely had a chance to know. She’d been just a baby when he died, but sometimes, especially in times of darkness or doubt, she felt a presence with her, and she wondered if it was him. She could almost believe it, for how could a parent ever fully leave a child without knowing whether he or she would be all right?

As a car made its way down the narrow lane in the distance, heading toward the main house, Liv watched as a large white bird lifted off, startled by the passing vehicle, and she thought of Delphine, Julien’s wife, who’d never known her daughter at all. Perhaps she was still here, too, watching over all of them.

Liv felt tears in her eyes. “Yes, I believe that very much.”

“I wonder sometimes why I am the one still alive after all this time,” Grandma Edith said, her voice a whisper. “I was never supposed to be here at all.”

“Well, I’m glad you are,” Liv said. “You’ve been the one constant in my life all these years.”

Liv slipped an arm around her grandmother, who didn’t resist, and the two of them stood there for a long time, each of them communing with their own ghosts as they gazed out over the vines toward an infinite horizon.

twenty-four

JANUARY 1943

INèS

Perhaps she could be redeemed after all.

That was what Inès was thinking when Michel came home late on the morning of the Cohns’ arrival at the Maison Chauveau, his Citro?n bumping over the frozen drive. Céline was inside her own cottage with Theo, having begged him to repair their broken stove as a distraction, leaving Inès to give Michel the news about their new guests.

“You are telling me that in the hours I have been gone, you have agreed to harbor two refugees?” he asked when she was done telling him the story of the Cohns’ escape from Reims.

“Please don’t be angry. It was no longer safe for them above the brasserie, and—”

“I’m not angry, Inès,” Michel interrupted. “I’m just surprised. I had no idea you were involved with such things.” He was looking at her like perhaps he’d never really known her at all.

“Well, yes,” she said, turning away. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d merely stumbled upon the Cohns, and that in fact she had come very close to being on the other end of this fight. But she was on the correct side now, and surely that was what mattered. “I just want to do what is right,” she said demurely.

“Well.” Michel seemed at a temporary loss for words. “I’ll go meet them now. Would you prepare them something to eat? They must be hungry after their travels.”

“I’ve already packed them a lunch,” Inès said, picking up the small bundle of cheese and bread she’d put together while she waited for Michel’s return.

“Does Céline know?” Michel asked suddenly.

Inès hesitated. “Yes. She was here when Edith and I arrived with the Cohns. I needed her help.”

“And Theo?”

“No. Céline was not sure whether to trust him.”

“Good.” As they walked outside to the main entrance to the cellars, Michel added, “Where exactly are they?”

“In the secret room. The one Céline knew about, but I did not.” She couldn’t keep the sting out of her voice. “You were keeping it from me?”

Michel sighed as they reached the bottom of the winding steps. “I’m sorry, Inès.”

But what was he sorry for, exactly? For shutting her out of her own life, her own marriage? “I would have kept your secret, you know.”

He hesitated. “I know.” But he didn’t look at her again as she followed him wordlessly deeper into the twisting darkness, their way lit only by the lamp he carried.

They found the Cohns hunched where Inès had left them, partially hidden behind barrels. “Samuel? Rachel?” Inès called out. “It is Inès. I have brought my husband, Michel.”

Slowly, the Cohn siblings emerged, Rachel looking worried, and Samuel sheepish. “Désolé,” Samuel said, coming forward to greet Michel and Inès. “We heard footsteps, and we weren’t sure what to do.”

“You did the right thing,” Michel assured them. “Welcome to the Maison Chauveau.”

“I’m very sorry for the inconvenience,” Samuel said.

“Nonsense.” Michel’s smile was tense but genuine. “It is the two of you who are owed the apology, for the way France has treated you. We will try to keep you safe until our country comes to its senses. It seems the world has gone mad, does it not?”