Twenty

Elaine

Getting Sarah and Noah from the city to the Maquis in the forest would not be difficult. They had false papers that were well-made should they be stopped and would travel in the evening, making their forged identity cards harder to examine. It was the look in Sarah's eye that most concerned Elaine.

No matter how comfortable Sarah remained in Manon's house, she still had not lost the hunted shadow in her eyes. It was an expression that could not be masked—gaze lowered and shifting, perpetually seeking out possible threats around her, shoulders hunched as if wishing she could make herself and her son disappear from view. The demeanor couldn't be erased by will. It was engrained from the trauma of always being on the run, from safe houses suddenly becoming a threat, from the knowledge that anyone could be a collaborator—the old man smoking at a café on the corner with a smile or a kindly teacher who tended to young children.

The night of their departure came swiftly. Elaine waited for the liaison between the Resistance and the Maquis to join her at the warehouse where they would set off together. But when the person finally arrived, her stomach dropped.

Etienne.

Only he did not appear the same Etienne she had always known. His skin had gone sallow, paper-thin and speckled with a dusting of thick bristling whiskers over his unshaved jaw. The bruising of exhaustion under his eyes was all the more prominent, as though he had not slept in weeks.

He regarded her with a wounded expression, visibly pained.

Their last meeting had not been a good one and still edged into Elaine's thoughts from time to time, like when a sound jolted her from a deep sleep and her racing heart led to a racing mind in the predawn hours of another long night.

They nodded in greeting to one another, masking all that needed to be said with the veneer of civility.

Once outside in the frigid February air, the night sky dark as heavy velvet, Etienne was the first to speak. "You were arrested by the Gestapo."

The nightmare of facing Werner rushed back to Elaine, the fear of what agony might have been implemented by those vicious metal tools and the soul-shaking curiosity if she could maintain her silence.

She nodded and tensed, waiting for an accusation or an outburst of anger at how much she had risked.

Instead, he rubbed at the back of his neck and blinked slowly. "Thank God you are safe."

"Thanks to Nicole," she replied.

"I was the one who recommended you work for Marcel."

"You did?" Elaine glanced at him. "Why?"

"I knew you would be in the Resistance regardless." His expression was hidden in the shadow of his fedora. "I thought it might at least be safer. I promised Joseph I would always look out for you."

Suddenly it made sense that Marcel had taken Elaine on simply based on her experience with the Roneo. Many people knew how to operate the small duplicating machines. Etienne had pull within the Resistance; she was aware of that, even if she wasn't entirely sure of what he did.

"Being arrested was my fault," Elaine confessed. "I would have been fine in the warehouse, but I volunteered to drop off a delivery. That's when I was caught."

The tension in his shoulders relaxed somewhat. A comfortable silence settled between them.

"You do know that Joseph only wanted your safety," Etienne said. "It was why he urged you not to help."

A group of German officers strode by with women at their sides garbed in slinky dresses and fur stoles. The men didn't even notice Elaine and Etienne, too riveted by their garish dates. Etienne and Elaine fell quiet until they passed, the women's noxious floral perfume trailing in their wake.

"Not long after the Nazis occupied Lyon, Joseph and I had to travel to Grenoble," Etienne said in a gravelly, distant voice. "We went through the forest on the way back as we had rubber for the stamps Joseph needed for the identity cards. The Germans were searching everyone boarding the trains, and we could not afford to have them see our cargo."

As far as Elaine knew in her life before the Resistance, Joseph had always been in Lyon for his job. Since then, she learned not only of his heroic efforts, but also how very mobile he had been around France.

"When we were coming through the forest, we came upon a body," Etienne continued in his flat tone. "It was just a foot at first, lightly covered by the leaves. We could not leave it there and decided to bury it. In doing so, we discovered the corpse to be that of a young woman. Forgive me for saying such things, but she was nude and there was evidence of torture..."

Elaine winced in horror, and her mind immediately went to the chair in the middle of Werner's office. The gleam of those metal tools, the damp seat leaving a cold, wet impression on her bottom and the backs of her legs, the heart-pounding anticipation of pain...

A shiver rippled over Elaine's skin.

"Joseph saw the woman and thought of you." Etienne avoided a lamppost as they walked, keeping to the anonymity of darkness. "He knew your fierce determination to liberate France, to help others, no matter the cost. And while the toll was one he realized you would gladly pay, it was not one he could allow you to make."

The abrupt change in Joseph suddenly made sense, the way he had so vehemently insisted she abandon all the efforts of fighting Nazis and instead give herself over to being a good wife.

An ache burgeoned within her. "He could have told me," she said raggedly.

"Would you have listened?"

Elaine sniffed and gave a mirthless laugh. "No."

Etienne lifted a palm up, as though to say "and there you have it."

"Joseph loved you," Etienne said with vehemence. "I've never seen a man so besotted with his wife."

The agony in her chest splintered with the pain of her grief. She had been too stubborn in not sending a note to him while he was in prison, thinking more could be said in person. It was a regret that would haunt her for the rest of her life. For the thousandth time since she'd received word of his death, she wondered at the little pinch of folded paper that Etienne promised to try to deliver to him.

"Joseph knew you loved him too," Etienne said.

"Did he?" Elaine asked, her voice catching. "There was too much left unsaid." Her words choked off with contrition.

"Even if he never received the note, he knew."

While Elaine prayed he was correct, she could not stop the sliver of doubt in her mind.

"I should have written to him earlier." The admission pulled a deep, wounded chasm within her, one of her own making. One that she had unjustly placed on Etienne's shoulders. "I'm angry with myself. Not you. Forgive me for being so unfair to you."

"I let Joseph down," he said.

"No." Elaine shook her head. "If it had been possible to save him, you would have."

He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and said nothing.

The clack of approaching shoes drew Elaine's eyes toward the shadow of a slender woman rushing toward them. A flicker of light whisked over her face from a streetlamp, revealing Nicole, her expression stricken.

"Someone has tipped off the Bosche," she said urgently. "They are on their way to Manon's home now."

The roar of a nearby engine rumbled through the air, as if confirming her words. With petrol being so rare, the only running vehicles were ones owned by the Nazis.

Elaine didn't wait to hear more. She and Etienne raced down the street, leaving Nicole.

"This way." Etienne shoved through a door into a traboule where the darkness of night went from delicate to consuming. He blindly navigated the passageways while Elaine remained at his back to ensure she did not lose him. They were spit out of another door and wound their way through the streets, the cobblestones damp and slick underfoot.

As they came upon Rue Lanterne, Denise strode from the opposite side of the street, from a café many Germans frequented. She was in wide-legged pants with a dark jacket, her hair bound back, her jaw locked with a hard expression. There had always been an edge to Denise, but now the glint in her eyes was nothing short of feral.

She passed by them without bothering to nod in their direction, strangers passing one another on the street and Elaine played along. All that mattered now was Sarah and Noah. And finding a way to keep Manon safe.

An explosion erupted from the building where Denise had departed, a bloom of orange and red amid a belching cloud of black smoke, the sound deafening against Elaine's ears. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her into the door of Manon's apartment.

The heat of the blast had only hinted at her skin before its brilliant light disappeared in the darkness of the hall; even the thunderous bang was muted by the thick walls. Etienne grabbed her hand and led her upstairs to where she had lived for several months.

As the noise of the bomb faded away, the roar of engines took its place. The Bosche were closing in on them. Elaine knocked on the door and tried to keep the sound from being too loud or too rapid.

Manon opened it, her eyes darting about. Surely she too had heard the explosion.

Elaine pushed inside. "The Germans," she said as audibly as she dared. "We must go."

Sarah stood in the doorway leading to the living area, frozen with Noah in her arms, her eyes wide like a rabbit cornered by a predator. "Was that an explosion?"

"A diversion," Etienne confirmed. "Please, we haven't much time—this way." He indicated the door to the balcony with the courtesy of a ma?tre d' at a fine Parisian restaurant.

No matter how out of place the gesture seemed, Sarah reacted, following him quickly and quietly.

Elaine tugged at Manon's slender arm. "You must come."

The slam of car doors came from outside, followed by the clipped sound of running feet and a woman shouting with indignation.

Denise.

Elaine gripped her friend more firmly. "We must go now."

Manon simply regarded her with large, calm brown eyes and shook her head. "There is not enough time."

"Manon—"

"I lost one child to these monsters." She withdrew in a firm jerk, fire in her eyes. "I will not lose another."

"Elaine." Etienne spoke in a sharp whisper, his hand extended to guide her to the balcony.

"Go," Manon said fiercely. "Get them to safety. I will distract the bastards."

Etienne grabbed Elaine's arm in a viselike grip and hauled her away. Abandoning Manon.

The horror of it left Elaine momentarily stunned.

"Think of Sarah and Noah," Etienne said harshly in her ear.

It was the reminder Elaine needed for her feet to start working on their own as they raced out onto the balcony. There they were able to pass easily into the next home, another safe house, but one without furnishings, appearing more like an apartment open to let than a place anyone ever stayed. Etienne guided them all through the empty space and down the back stairs that descended to an alternate exit through the rear of the building where a quiet street met them.

But there was no chance to breathe a sigh of relief. Not when rough, angry shouts punctuated the late evening. Sarah clung to Noah as he buried his face into the bulk of her coat, her mouth pressed closed with silent tears.

Elaine understood their terror. Her own skin prickled with it, and her stomach had gone tight. If Etienne was affected by the powerful fear plaguing them all, he did not reveal it as he navigated them through the back alley to the main street where they swept away in the opposite direction. A scuffle sounded in the distance, German orders, severe with accusation and malice. The response delivered was in a demure female voice, so soft and gentle, it could only be Manon.

Elaine slowed, warring with the need to go back to help the woman, but Etienne put a hand to her elbow and rushed her along. Their small party walked with hurried steps and skulked their way through a narrow alleyway to climb the steep, winding hill of Croix-Rousse when a chatter of submachine gunfire pierced the night air.

Elaine slapped her hand against her mouth to keep from crying out. Still, she continued on, trying to think only of what lay ahead of them. Imagining what transpired behind was far too painful. Any distraction at this point could be their demise.

The trams were still running, carting workers in Lyon to the outlying areas where many lived. Etienne guided them toward a stopped tram where they settled in a back row together, joining the quiet group whose bodies were weary and stomachs empty. It was an arduous journey where every jostle and jolt, every voice and stomp of a foot, made Elaine's nerves jump.

Sarah stared into the distance in a way that suggested she too had forced her mind to go blank. Her bland countenance was not unlike those around her as Noah clung to her with such dogged determination, he appeared to be sleeping as any child his age would. Etienne's elbow casually rested on the side of the window as he gazed out at the passing city, his demeanor calm enough to soothe some of Elaine's own churning anxiety.

Whatever fears left her strung taut as a bowstring abated when the tram slowed to a stop and deposited them near a small town set against the edge of the forest.

While the woods had been lovely in the daytime with the golden sunlight and serene shifting of leaves in the breeze, it was not so at night. The pitch black of a moonless night obscured the path in such darkness, one could not see their own feet. And where the ambient backdrop of the forest was once soothing, the clicks and cries and errant cracks of its denizens now left Elaine frightful of what might emerge from the clusters of trees and foliage.

A call came in a subtle hoot that would blend in with those around them and she looked about as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Etienne.

The bushes rustled and a man appeared. Sarah sucked in a quiet inhale of surprise. But Elaine was not afraid, not when the man moved silently as the Maquis were wont to do. No Nazi with their heavy booted steps and stiff posture could glide unseen anywhere, let alone the forest where the floor was littered with brittle sticks and leaves.

"This is them?" the young maquisard asked.

"Oui."Etienne stepped forward. "You have the instructions?"

"Of course."

Sarah was little more than a figure set against the shadows. Elaine turned to her. "You have been so very brave." She put a hand to Noah's back to keep from startling him. "And so have you, Noah."

She leaned closer and he curled his arm around her neck. Sarah joined her son's embrace with Elaine. "Thank you," she whispered.

"They may not be able to take you as far as America." It was a warning Elaine had issued many times already but could not refrain from offering yet again.

Sarah released her. "But we will be safe."

Safe. Yes. Far from France. And from Elaine. She would never see Sarah or Noah again. She might never learn of their fate or the details of their travels. The understanding left an ache in the back of her throat as they bid their final farewells.

Noah watched Elaine as they walked away, his gaze resting comfortably at Elaine's back until a coldness told her they were gone.

With the mission accomplished and their safety secured, Elaine's thoughts turned to Manon. To those terrible shouts and that burst of gunfire.

She knew what it meant without having to be told, but she dreaded the news regardless.

It was in that moment she fully understood why Joseph had tried to keep her from joining the Resistance. So many sacrifices had been made in the war against their oppressors. Too many. Each one as painful as the last.

And, sadly, there would likely be more to come.