“Indeed.”

“Now, I must ask something of you.”

“Yes, anything,” Samuel said instantly.

“My head winemaker, Theo Laurent, is a good man, but he knows nothing of the activities I carry on here. It would be better if he does not know of you and your sister. I feel that we could trust him if it came down to it, but I do not want to put him in the position of having to weigh the laws against his conscience.”

“We understand,” Samuel said, glancing at Rachel, who nodded. “We will stay out of sight.”

“Good,” Michel said. “And we will make every effort to move you as soon as possible. We’ll just need some time to obtain false papers.”

“Yes, of course,” Samuel said. “And I promise, we will repay you and your family one day, just as soon as we are able.”

“There is no need,” Michel said.

“But we must.”

The two men shared a moment of silent understanding. “Well,” Michel said, glancing at Inès once more. “I should begin making arrangements. Inès, would you like to stay and make sure the Cohns are comfortable?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Michel gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek before nodding to the Cohns and leaving the cave.

“Here, I have brought you some food. I don’t know when you last ate,” Inès said once Michel’s footfalls had faded. From the way they ravenously attacked the small spread she placed on the stone bench, she guessed that it had been a long while. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked as Samuel and Rachel polished off the last of the minuscule meal. “We don’t have much, but—”

“No, no, we are grateful for every kindness.” Samuel hesitated. “I meant what I said to your husband. We will owe you after this, all of you, Madame Thierry and Madame Laurent, too.”

“You owe us nothing.”

“But you are risking your lives to save ours. Before I was barred from university, I was studying the law. And when the war is over, I will finish my final exams and become a lawyer. I very much hope that I am one day in a position to help you, and to make sure that the law is always on the side of those who are virtuous.”

“I’m not so sure that’s what I am.” The words were out of Inès’s mouth before she could consider them. “I’ve done things I regret very much.”

“Whatever has happened, I will tell you this: a person who has lost her way would never risk her life to help people in need. You’re a good person, madame.”

Inès pressed her lips together. If he realized what she’d been doing behind her husband’s back, he would feel differently. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why were the Germans after you?”

“Why indeed,” he muttered. “Well, I suppose it’s because we were born in Poland. My whole family came here when Rachel and I were just small children, so France is the only home we have ever known. We are as French as you are, I think. But to the Germans, it doesn’t matter. Rachel and I were on our way home from visiting a friend in October when we saw the vehicles in front of our house. We hid and watched them take our parents away. I did nothing to stop it, and that is something I will have to live with forever.”

“But surely you’ll be reunited after the war. They’re only sending Jews to work camps.”

“Is that really what you believe?” Samuel’s tone wasn’t unkind. “Madame Chauveau, the camps are a facade. Most people—especially those the Germans don’t deem fit for labor—are disappearing upon arrival.”

“But that can’t be true. The French police wouldn’t be complicit in something like that.”

Samuel sighed. “I think many of them might not have understood at first what they were involved in, just as many French civilians do not understand it now.”

Inès just looked at him.

“The police know now, though. I believe they do, anyhow. Did you know that during the roundups in Reims in July, there was a French policeman who killed himself instead of making an arrest?” Samuel asked after a moment.

“What?”

“I saw it with my own eyes. He was dragging a child out from her home, a little girl who couldn’t have been more than five or six. He turned to his commander and cried out, ‘You know where they’re going! How can we send a child to that fate?’ His commander replied in a low voice, something I didn’t hear, and gestured angrily to the truck where the girl’s family waited. The French officer bent and whispered something to the girl—I imagine he told her to run, because she did—and then he took his pistol to his own head and fired without a second of hesitation.”

“He shot himself in the head? Just like that?” Inès felt suddenly cold all over.

“I think he could not live with himself. Or maybe he just knew that taking his own life would give the girl a chance to get away in the chaos.”

“And did she?”

Samuel smiled slightly. “Last I heard, she was living safely with a family in the countryside. And as for the French policeman, well, maybe now he has found some peace. Perhaps in dying to give someone else the life that was always meant to be hers, he was redeemed.”