The Librarian Spy(58)

“My neighbor was taken last night for harboring Jews, as well as those they were hiding,” Josette said, her volume conversational again. “Every day we aren’t doing something means more people are condemned to arrests and work camps.”

Work camps.

The words always snagged at a wounded place in Elaine’s heart and made all the worry for Joseph bubble forefront in her mind. Despite Etienne’s constant promise to unearth information, no news was ever forthcoming.

Josette pulled an envelope from the false bottom of her basket, a slight tremor to her hands. “I must deliver this to Marcel, then I’m meeting Nicole back at the apartment.”

Elaine nodded and took the item from her friend. “Take care of yourself. Please.”

Josette’s head bobbed in agreement, but the slide of her stare to the floor told Elaine the other woman wouldn’t heed the warning.

“And give Nicole my love.” Elaine embraced Josette gently, feeling nothing but fragile bones beneath her friend’s gray coat.

Marcel approached as Josette strode away. “What do you think of her?” It was the same question he asked before.

Only this time, Elaine couldn’t bring herself to remain silent. “I’m worried.” She handed the item to Marcel.

“I am too.” He didn’t look at the envelope, but instead continued to study the door Josette had departed through.

Elaine left him to his delivery and went to the automatic printing press. The machine whirred with the flashing of papers, the spinning of gears and metal arms that reached and grabbed and shifted. Her own thoughts were precisely the same: in constant motion, flexing around worry and concern. For Josette whose composed nature was unraveling like a sweater with a loose thread. For Sarah and Noah who understood the poignancy of loss and the fear of losing more. For Manon and the pain of what she endured. For Joseph and how little information Elaine possessed of his location or health.

Perhaps being so lost in her thoughts kept her from noticing Etienne walk into the room.

“Elaine.”

She startled at the voice beside her.

The tip of Etienne’s nose was pink, his eyes bloodshot. “I need to speak with you.”

A low rattle of fear vibrated through her.

Rather than share his news there, he led her to the back door where the prior evening, Sarah and Noah had slipped inside the warehouse. Elaine’s knees went so soft, she worried she might slide to the floor before making it out onto the terrace.

Outside was a beautiful October day without a hint of a breeze to disrupt the crisp air as the sun streamed down through puffy white clouds. It was the kind of weather Elaine would have noticed and appreciated on any other day. Now, all she cared about was what Etienne had to say and what that meant for Joseph.

“Elaine.” Etienne swept his battered old fedora from his head and clutched the brim with a white-knuckled grip.

“Oui?” How the word made it past her lips she’d never know.

“It’s Joseph.” Etienne’s brows drew together with the intensity of one in deep concentration. As though he couldn’t quite figure out what to say.

Elaine nodded for him to continue, not trusting her own voice.

He let out a shaky exhale. “I am so sorry to give you this news...”

Her stomach plummeted to the ground. She shook her head and backed away, not wanting to hear the rest. If she didn’t hear, she couldn’t know. And if she didn’t know, it wouldn’t be real. There might still be a chance that Joseph lived. There might still be hope.

Etienne reached for her. He stank of stale cigarettes and desperation and regret. “Joseph is dead.”

A blast of bitter wind swept through the terrace in that moment, upsetting the amber-colored leaves of the plane tree so they tumbled and scraped against one another.

Elaine clenched her hand into a fist and looked up at the long branches stretching into the sky overhead. The lush green foliage had faded to an autumnal gold. Another season passed with more to come, on and on in its endless cycle.

But Joseph would have no more seasons. He wouldn’t witness the splendor of the world shifting into the myriad colors of the year, or feel its temperature rise and dip.

Just like he wouldn’t be there to put his arm around her in a crowd of people to keep her from being jostled or prepare her coffee while she lazed just five minutes longer in bed.

There were so many times his stare went distant in the comfortable quiet moments between them. She swore his mind was made up of a complex series of cogs and gears that clicked through problems with a mechanical precision. Never again would she witness that familiar, scholarly gaze and wonder what world-changing dilemma he was internally solving.

He was a beacon of knowledge and in an instant, all the brilliance and intelligence was snuffed out like a flame, leaving not even a curl of smoke in its wake.

All that remained was a broken heart.

Hers.

“Elaine,” Etienne said in a hoarse voice. “I’m so sorry.”

In looking at him, her rage found its target. Grief carved deeply at Etienne’s haggard face, his shoulders sloped with defeat, a soldier who’d lost his comrade.

But in that moment, when the pain of her own loss blistered her insides and left breathing difficult to drag through her aching chest, she could not summon sympathy for him. Not when she had trusted him to free Joseph from Montluc so long ago.