“You said that?” I asked, surprised. Vivienne was so cheerful and kind, I didn’t realize she was capable of saying something so confrontational. Especially to a man of God.

  Vivienne gave me a small smile. “Someone needed to. Although you shouldn’t think of me as too much of a radical. Pastor Luc might have been shocked by my candor, but he would never report me to anyone.”

  “That’s good,” I said. It was horrible living in a world where so few people could be trusted. And the Beaumier family probably wouldn’t have had to worry about such things were it not for me. “I’m sorry,” I told Vivienne. “I never realized how much danger I was putting you and Jean-Paul in by being here.”

  “Oh, chérie, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine. Just like you will be, too.”

  “What about Julien?” I asked. “Will he be fine?” When he’d hobbled out the night before, I’d feared he might not survive. All those blows, and to a body already compromised by his illness.

  “Yes, that boy is stronger than all of us, trust me,” said Vivienne. “But we need to give him time to heal. Both his body and his heart.”

  I looked down in shame. Julien must have told his parents everything. Not just about what Vincent had done to him, but what I had done as well. “He got so mad at me,” I whispered.

  “He was just mad at himself, chérie,” Vivienne said, hugging me closer. “For leading Vincent to the barn. The truth is, he should not have taken the sketchbook. It was too risky—for all of us. He knows that. But he couldn’t help himself. He saw it and he knew how much it meant to you. But because he was so eager to surprise you, he forgot to be as careful as he should have been. It was a mistake. I don’t begrudge him that.”

  “I know. I just feel like I don’t deserve his thoughtfulness. After…everything.” I knew Julien had probably told her about the way I had ignored him and snubbed him for years. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it. And I couldn’t believe that even knowing what I had done, she was so willing to show me love and compassion.

  She tucked a stray lock of my hair behind my ear and looked into my eyes. “Of course you deserve it,” she told me. “In these dark times, it’s those small acts of kindness that keep us alive, after all. They remind us of our humanity.”

  “Vive l’humanité?” I asked.

  “Vive l’humanité.” Ever since the day I heard the maquisard say those words, I had associated them with conflict, resistance, and defiance. But the way Vivienne said them, they seemed to have another meaning. They were softer—less like a soaring hawk and more like a nesting dove. I tried to hold on to that image as I waited for Julien to be well enough to return to the barn.

  And as I hoped that when he was well enough, he would want to return to the barn.

  * * *

  —

  “Sara?”

  I sat up, startled by the sound of my name. I had been asleep, but I hoped I wasn’t dreaming. The voice I heard saying it was the voice I had been waiting to hear for two weeks.

  They had been the longest and loneliest two weeks of my life. I had dutifully tried to think up ways to pass the time. I read. I drew. And I thought. That was the problem, actually. I couldn’t stop thinking about the things Julien had said to me.

  Two weeks was an awfully long time to be alone with those thoughts. Especially since I knew that Julien was right—all this time, in the barn, I had been thinking only about myself. Even though I no longer cared about having pretty red shoes or playing my piano pieces or having Papa bring me treasures from his travels, I was still the spoiled little girl I had always been. But the hardest part about Julien’s extended absence wasn’t coming to terms with my own embarrassment and remorse about my behavior. The hardest part was realizing that I might never see Julien again and might never have the chance to tell him just how sorry I was.

  “Julien?” I called out, rushing to the hayloft’s edge. “Hi. Should I come down?”

  “No, I’ll come up.”

  “Okay.”

  He handed up his crutches, and I waited as he carefully hauled himself up to the loft. I almost offered to help, but he looked more determined than ever. And I sort of worried that if I said anything, I’d break the spell and he’d leave again. He looked tired and his face still had some cuts and bruises, but otherwise he seemed like himself. That was a big relief.

  “What have you been up to?” he asked.

  “Not much,” I said truthfully. “How about you?”

  “School. Homework. You know.”

  I waited, hoping for more details. But I got none. It crossed my mind that perhaps he didn’t even want to come see me. Maybe Vivienne had put him up to it.

  I opened my mouth to ask. But then I shut it again. I didn’t want to know the answer. And I was grateful to have him visit, even if it was out of obligation rather than by choice.

  “Do you want to…go for a drive?” I asked.

  Julien shook his head.

  “Or…we could do some math?” I suggested. “I know I need to stay on top of it, so—”

  “Maybe another time,” he said.

  I glanced around quickly, afraid he’d be gone before too much longer if I didn’t come up with some way of engaging his interest.

  “What about cards?”

  Julien shrugged indifferently. “Okay,” he said.

  “Fantastic. I’ll deal!” I plopped down on the floor and began shuffling. I didn’t even have to ask, because our default game was Julien’s favorite: belote.

  He won the first round. And the second. And the third.

  “Another round?” he asked.

  “Okay.” In all honesty, I’d had enough of playing cards. But since it was all Julien seemed to want to do, I persisted. Sooner or later, I would have to find a way to break the awful silence between us. But how?

  Julien, I’m sorry…. No.

  Julien, I need to apologize…. No.

  Julien, there’s something I need to tell you…. Definitely not. I played distractedly, trying to think of how to start a real conversation with him. No wonder he keeps winning, I thought bitterly. My mind is a million miles away.

  “Another round?”

  I looked down to see that Julien had won again. In response, I blurted out, “Do you, um, want to talk about anything?”

  “Nope. I’ll deal this time.”

  “Look, Julien—”

  “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it, Sara!” he snapped.

  That shut me up. I studied my cards, determined to drop the subject like a hot potato. He didn’t want to talk about it? Fine! We wouldn’t talk about it.

  “I just…I hate that you saw me get beat up like that. It’s so humiliating,” said Julien. His eyes stayed hidden behind his cards. His voice, however, ventured over the top of his hand. “I’m so tired of being seen as this weak, pathetic little creature. The crab. Before I got polio, I used to run so fast, Sara. I was the fastest kid in my class.”

  You’re still fast, even on your crutches, when you want to be, I was tempted to say. But I remembered something Mademoiselle Petitjean used to say to us in class. “You have two ears but only one mouth for a reason. Try to listen more than you speak.” This seemed like a listening moment, for sure.

  “And the thing is,” continued Julien, “I still remember what that felt like. I know I’ll never run like that again, but that doesn’t make me weak, or pathetic, which is how people see me.”

  I shook my head, unable to keep silent any longer. “I don’t see you like that,” I told him. “I see you as being really brave.”

  Julien made a face. “Ugh! That’s even worse! You think I’m brave because I walk with crutches?” He looked at me like I was being stupid. “Crutches don’t make me brave! They make me able to get around!”

  I cringed. Leave it to me to open my mouth and make things worse. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Julien.”

  “You just don’t get it,” he said dismissively.

  “No, I do! I get it all!” I felt an urgent need to make him see that while I wasn’t perfect—and I knew it!—I also wasn’t the enemy. “And you’re right. I’ve been so selfish. I am self-absorbed. And childish. I never stood up for you when people were mean to you in school.”

  “No, no, Sara. Please, stop. You don’t need to apologize.”

  “But I want to!” I insisted. “I’m sorry that I used to be like the rest of them! I’m sorry I didn’t know your name. That I didn’t even realize you had a name.” I was crying now. I couldn’t help it. Nothing mattered if I couldn’t show Julien how much it hurt me to know that I had hurt him.

  “Sara, it’s okay. Really,” Julien said. He had put the cards down, and he reached for my hands. “Look, I’m sorry I said those things. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. The truth is, it doesn’t matter how you used to be. It only matters how you are now.”

  I nodded and tried to say something, but it came out in kind of a snuffly snort, which made both of us laugh. Julien unrolled his shirtsleeve and offered it to me. I used it to wipe my eyes but couldn’t bring myself to blow my nose on it.

  “The other day with Vincent,” he continued, “you were willing to risk your life just to save mine. No one’s ever done that for me before. I should be thanking you. That was really brave of you.”

  “It was?” That honestly hadn’t occurred to me. “Look, when I say I think you’re brave, it’s not because of your crutches. It’s because of how you stood up to them. It’s because of everything you’re risking to help me.”

  “Aww. Well, if you put it that way, okay, I’ll accept your compliment.”

  I smiled and used my own sleeve to blow my nose. Loudly.

  Julien laughed. “Anyway, how about we go back to the way things used to be?”

  “Okay, I’d like that.”

  Julien picked up his cards and grabbed my hand of cards as well. Reshuffling the deck, he said, “So if we’re going to start over, let’s really start over. You deal this round.”

  “All right,” I said. “Prepare to take a beating!” As soon as the words left my mouth, I cringed. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that!”

  “Oh, no, I can take it,” he assured me. “But I don’t think the one who just lost six rounds should be making idle threats.”

  “Five!” I corrected him.

  “Going to be six soon,” he said confidently.

  “We’ll see,” I said, dealing the cards. This time I was able to pay attention to the game. To study my cards. To choose my moves strategically. Which, I told myself as I set another card down, was going to make the difference this ti—

  “Ha ha! I win again!” teased Julien.

  I groaned with frustration. “How is that possible? How do you always win? I can beat your mother, so why can’t I ever beat you?”

  “I suppose I get my card-playing skills from my papa.”

  “He must be so proud,” I joked. “However, just once I’d like to win.”

  “You’re suggesting I should let you win?” Julien raised an eyebrow.

  “No! I’m just saying— Forget it, let’s play again. One more game. Okay?”

  “For you? Anything,” he said.

  Grandmère (Helen Mirren, left) sits and talks about her childhood in France with her grandson, Julian (Bryce Gheisar, right).

  Julian (Bryce Gheisar) tries to find a group of friends to fit in with at his new school.

  Sara (Ariella Glaser) smiles as she walks her bicycle into the schoolyard.

  Julien (Orlando Schwerdt, center) returns a dropped sketchbook to Sara (Ariella Glaser, right) as her friends look on.

  Sara (Ariella Glaser, center) and her friends Mariann (Selma Kaymakci, left) and Sophie (Mia Kadlecova, right) laugh as they run down the street together.

  Rose (Olivia Ross, left) and Max (Ishai Golan, right) explain to their daughter, Sara (Ariella Glaser, center), that they will have to flee their home.

  Sara (Ariella Glaser, center) and her fellow Jewish classmates hide in an alcove as they plan their escape from the German soldiers.

  Sara (Ariella Glaser) huddles in the hayloft of the drafty barn as she waits for Julien and his parents to return.

  Sara (Ariella Glaser) draws a scene in her sketchbook by candlelight as she hides in the barn.

  Sara (Ariella Glaser, right) and Julien (Orlando Schwerdt, left) pretend to drive the Beaumiers’ car down the grand streets of Paris.

  Julien (Orlando Schwerdt, left) walks through the schoolyard as Vincent (Jem Matthews, leftmost of the three boys) and his friends mock him.

  Vincent (Jem Matthews) enters the Beaumiers’ barn, suspicious that someone is hiding within.

  Julien (Orlando Schwerdt, left) gazes at Sara (Ariella Glaser, right) during a rare moment out of the barn to see the bluebells in the forest.

  Vivienne (Gillian Anderson) watches from the doorway of her home.

  Sara (Ariella Glaser) rushes to inform Vivienne (Gillian Anderson) of some terrible news about Julien.

  Grandmère (Helen Mirren) gazes skyward toward a white bird as she leaves the exhibition of her artwork.

  PART THREE

  But the enemy came like thunder in the wood….

  —Muriel Rukeyser, “Seventh Elegy: The Dream-Singing Elegy”

  “Can you teach me to play belote?” asked Julian.

  “Of course,” replied Grandmère with a smile. “But if you expect to be able to beat me, I have some disappointing news. There came a time when I began to win at belote.”

  “No way.”

  She nodded proudly. “It drove Julien crazy, especially when I teased him about no longer being the undefeated champion.” Grandmère sighed. “It was such a strange time. And it went on for so long. That first month seemed like an eternity, and the ones that followed also felt like they went on forever. At a certain point I realized that I had been living in that hayloft for over a year.”

  “A year?” Julian looked shocked. “Without ever going outside, or sleeping in a real bed, or using an actual toilet?”

  “What choice did I have? It wasn’t all bad. Despite my limited circumstances, every day was not identical to the one before it. Though some days were nearly unbearable. Imagine living in an unheated barn in the dead of winter, with the icy wind whipping through the holes in the walls. There were nights when I would lie awake shivering, praying for the morning to come. You think summer in the city can be hot? Try living in a grimy old barn—all that dusty hay and stagnant air. Sometimes it got so bad, I could barely breathe.”

  “Right, so…how did you deal with all that?”

  His grandmother shrugged. “My dear boy, you can get used to anything. That is a trick of human nature. We get used to things. I know it might be hard to imagine, but your très chic grandmère stopped caring so much about her looks. As I grew taller and skinnier, my daily outfit was one of Jean-Paul’s old work shirts and a hand-me-down pair of his pants.”

  “That must have been quite a look with your fancy red shoes,” joked Julian.

  “Oh, by then I had outgrown those red shoes, in more ways than one.” Grandmère laughed at the memory. “Besides, they ended up serving a far more practical purpose.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Spring 1944

  “Shoo! Git! Come on, shoo!” I yelled threateningly, waving a red shoe at a tiny mouse skittering back into the haystack. No sooner had it disappeared from view than out of the corner of my eye, I saw another small gray form dart out. “Oh no you don’t!” I cried, chasing the second mouse and nearly flattening its tail with a thud of my shoe. “Take that! And that!” I added, whacking the floor repeatedly for good measure.

  “Sara? What in the world is going on up there?”

  I froze, hands in the air with red shoes on them like gloves.

  “Nothing,” I said guiltily. Though in all honesty I felt entitled to establish some rules for my fellow hayloft dwellers. I didn’t want to hurt the mice, truly. But I lost my patience with them when they darted across my face in the night and made a beeline for everything I ate.

  Julien tossed me his crutches and pulled himself up. He had done it so many times, and he was so much taller and stronger now, that this was one swift move rather than a series of awkward ones.

  “Terrorizing the poor little rodents again?” he asked. “You’re turning into a regular Mouse-olini, aren’t you?”

  “I am not,” I retorted. “Besides, they started it.”

  He looked amused. “Oh, really?”

  I gathered up a handful of my hair like a ponytail and showed him the ends to prove it. “You see? They nibble on it while I sleep!”

  “You lucky girl,” he replied. “Monsieur Souris is a famous hairdresser. All the ladies in Paris line up for him to trim their locks. And here he is, giving you haircuts for free!”

  “I do need a haircut,” I admitted after giving him a light swat for teasing me. “A real one, that is!”

  “I’ll see if Maman can take care of it. And I am sorry about the mice.”

  “It’s okay. It’s just…” I sighed. “I feel like I could put up with them, and with everything, a lot better if I knew when it was going to end.”