imprisoned in all day. She was tired, but more than that she was hungry. He’d left her in that barren flat the entire day, worry her only companion. “Meet Pierrette for yourself.”
“It’s best to give everything a few days more, and that would include not letting your friend know of any connection to me or to any priest.”
Edward stopped at the end of the street. She would have continued on, knowing he would stay behind, but he caught her wrist.
“I’m sorry, Isa.” He stroked her hand with his thumb. “For this whole, awful day.”
His considerate tone brought the first light moment since that morning. “You’re only being careful. I know that.”
“But you’re hungry and cross and it’s my fault. It’s only that I want you safe. You know that, don’t you?”
She would have leaned into him, forced an embrace the way she’d always done her whole life around him, but knew she couldn’t. Not out here in the late afternoon sun, and he in priestly vestments.
So she nodded and squeezed his hand before letting him go. Already her frustration was dissipating.
But not her hunger.
Isa made her way inside her home, seeing Pierrette with Genny on the two Queen Anne chairs, a teapot between them with only water in the cups. Genny welcomed Isa with the shortest glance, but even that was enough to reveal an extra shadow of worry in her eyes.
“Oh, Isa!” Pierrette sprang to her feet. “I hoped you would be home soon, and here you are. Where have you been all day?”
Isa received Pierrette’s embrace even as she planned as vague an answer as ever to Pierrette’s inquiry. “I’m glad to be back, actually. My friend was especially lonely today and bade me stay too long, only she hadn’t much to offer. And I see we’re out of tea, too.”
Pierrette scurried back to her chair, where she’d left a little purse. “I have something to share. Look! It’s a tin of meat. One of the soldiers gave three of them to my dear Jean-Luc, and he said to make sure to bring one here today. Isn’t that sweet?”
Abandoning any disappointment over having to entertain Pierrette despite her lingering suspicions, Isa received the can and led the way to the kitchen. Since Clara was not to be found and Isa hadn’t paid attention on the rare occasion they’d had canned food to know how one accessed the inside, she let Genny do it for her. Isa retrieved three plates, hoping there was enough to leave some for Edward, Clara, and Henri but knowing such a hope was futile. Oh, to have a bottomless supply, one she could send over to Jonah as well . . .
Between the meat and a small slice of tasteless dark bread, Isa chased away the worst of her hunger. Finishing with a long drink of water gave her a false sense of satisfaction, at least for a time.
Pierrette chatted on as always, even refused to take any of the meat. Yet when she asked for the second time where Isa had spent the day, Isa’s misgivings resurfaced.
“I was with the wife of an old friend of my mother’s,” she said, thinking it best not to give a name, even a false one.
“It’s only that you said this friend hadn’t much to offer, and I wondered if there might be something we could do for her? Pool our food tickets? Perhaps Jean-Luc can get more tins. To help, yes?”
“That’s very kind of you,” Genny said, exchanging a glance with Isa.
“I’m surprised she hasn’t enough if she lives around here,” Pierrette continued. “Usually Upper Town finds a way to more food. Is she from around here, then?”
“No—not really very close at all.”
“But you said she was a friend of your mother’s?”
Isa nodded, wishing she were a better liar. “Yes, but through the diplomatic corps.”
“Tell us about how Jean-Luc received the tins, Pierrette,” Genny said. “Has he found a German with a heart for us, then?”
“Yes, oh yes, he made a friend in a guard from when he was in their custody. They are not all so bad, you know. But most of the Germans are terrible. Most would be only so happy to give you the peel, should they have a banana. Ah! How I hate them.”
As Pierrette bubbled on, Isa glanced gratefully at Genny, glad to have had her help in diverting the conversation from Isa’s supposed circle of friends. These days, that only extended as far as those within the circle of La