The Book of Lost Names(80)

Eva shrugged, though she was a bit bothered by Joseph sharing her tragedy with Geneviève so easily. “If I had tried harder to persuade him to go underground… If my eyes had been more open…”

“I feel the same about the past. We can’t blame ourselves, though. We can only take the responsibility of preventing the same things from happening to others.”

“Do you think we’re making any difference?” Eva asked after a long pause. “Sometimes, it’s still hard to feel as if we’re part of any meaningful resistance. There are days when I forget there’s a whole world outside these walls.”

A day later, though, everything changed. Eva was cleaning up the tiny library to head home for the evening—hiding the stamps and inks, concealing the blank and forged documents in a hollowed-out dictionary, sliding the Book of Lost Names into its unassuming spot on the shelf—when Père Clément appeared at the door, his face pale.

“Is Geneviève with you?” he asked.

“No, she’s already gone for the night. Is everything all right, Père Clément?”

“I’m afraid not, Eva. Come with me.”

In silence, she followed him through the empty church to his small office behind the altar. As he ushered her inside, she saw Erich waiting for her in a chair with a grave expression.

“Is it—?” she asked, and then instantly stopped. She had been about to ask about Rémy, but she didn’t know whether Erich knew about him yet, and she certainly didn’t want to give Rémy away to a German, even if Erich had proven himself an ally. Besides, the question had been foolish. Would she even be notified if anything happened to him? Perhaps it was ridiculous that nearly a year after she’d seen him last, he still occupied such a large portion of her thoughts, her heart. But she thought of him constantly, worried about him, wondered on the darkest nights whether she would even know if he’d died. She knew instantly, as she looked back at Père Clément, that he’d understood exactly what she’d been about to say.

“No, Eva, our old friend is fine, as far as I know,” Père Clément said quickly, gesturing to the chair beside Erich. “Please, join us.” She sat, her unease growing, as the priest took a seat behind his desk.

“Eva, we’re worried,” the German said immediately. As was the case the last time she’d seen him, he was out of uniform, and but for his accent, he could easily have been one of them, a friend, a neighbor. “I believe my superiors are very close to infiltrating your network.”

“What? Why do you think that?”

“They have some names—not yours, not Père Clément’s, as far as I know—but I believe arrests are imminent.” Erich and Père Clément exchanged looks. “I don’t know who’s talking, Eva, but the children are in danger.”

“The children? Which ones?”

“All of them.” The words sat between the three of them, stark and frightening, before Erich continued. “They now have the addresses of all sixteen homes in town where children are being held, and the seven farms in the countryside. Raids could begin as early as the day after tomorrow. They have names, Eva. Names of the children, names of the people helping them. That’s why we have to move them, as soon as possible. I think it’s over, Eva.”

Eva’s head spun as she stared at him. “Over?”

“All of it. Somehow, your cell has been compromised.”

She turned to look at Père Clément in disbelief—surely Erich was wrong. But the priest was nodding gravely. “What will we do?” she asked.

“I need you to start on documents for the children and their keepers immediately.”

“Of course.” Eva paused, dazed. “Geneviève and I have been working only on the maquisards for the past two weeks. We haven’t completed papers for any of the children.” Then she put a hand over her mouth. “My God, Geneviève. Someone must warn her. If we’ve been compromised…”

“I’ll go,” Père Clément said.

“What about my mother?”

“There’s no reason to think anyone knows about her. As soon as I can locate Faucon, I’ll ask him to send someone to look out for her. We need you here, though, Eva. There’s no time to waste.”

Eva nodded, her heart racing. “And then what? What do we do after we get the documents done?”

“I think it’s time for us to disperse. So work on any supporting papers you and your mother might need, too. She’ll finally get her wish to head for Switzerland.”

“And you?”

Père Clément’s eyes were sad, his smile grim. “I’ll stay here and do what I can. It’s in God’s hands now.”



* * *



Geneviève never showed up at the church, and Père Clément returned briefly to tell Eva that he couldn’t find her; she wasn’t in her apartment, though it was past curfew. When Père Clément mentioned that he hadn’t located Faucon, either, Eva breathed a bit easier; certainly the two were together. Yes, Geneviève’s absence would leave Eva to do all the work that night, but if they were all to flee Aurignon tomorrow, it was good that Geneviève was getting one last night of sleep.