Julien was often arrogant and standoffish, always the smartest in his class, a far better student than his older brother, but in the past year he had changed. His emotions had been raw ever since he’d been requested to leave school, as all Jews were. As a further injury his closest friend, Bernard, had stopped speaking to him, and instead passed him on the street as though he were a stranger.
He’s showing his true colors, Victor had said. He’d never liked Bernard anyway. You’re better off without him.
But Julien had suffered after the dissolution of the friendship. He’d gone to speak to Bernard at his home, thinking it only right that he be granted an explanation. For years they’d been inseparable, but when Julien came to call, he was not allowed in the house. They’d stood in the street in the fading light and Bernard had seemed jittery, fearing they might be seen together. I don’t associate with criminals, he’d finally blurted.
How am I a criminal? Julien knew he sounded even more arrogant than usual, ready for a fight, but Bernard had shrugged, unfazed.
A Jew, a criminal, same thing.
He’d struck Bernard, not once but several times, ignoring his friend’s protests, drawing blood before he knew what he’d done. It was so unlike Julien to be violent, even when provoked, that he ran off afterward, mortified by his own actions, feeling he had somehow proved Bernard right. He had a dark soul, he was bitter and betrayed, and he knew something horrible was coming. He’d been more agitated with himself than with Bernard. For days afterward he couldn’t sleep and was woken by his frantic heart, which served as a reminder of who he might become if he let himself go.
The world was falling apart around them, a dire situation Julien’s parents continued to ignore. Did they not know that at the conference in Evian as far back as 1938, thirty-two countries in the League of Nations had voted not to help Jewish refugees fleeing Germany? Even America had refused to accept 20,000 endangered refugee children. The professor’s head was in the clouds, he was so busy with his work that he never read a newspaper, and their mother was concerned with very little beyond their home and garden. In the minds of the elder Lévis, France would always prevail.
When the professor arrived in the hallway, the visitors rose to their feet, as if they were servants.
“Thank you for having us to your home,” the girl said politely.
“There’s been a misunderstanding,” Professor Lévi began in response, but Ava was quick to interrupt, as if she had no common courtesy.
“You are Madame Kohn’s cousin. That’s why we’re here.”
“Well, yes. But a distant cousin. Hardly related, really. We’ve never actually met.”
“Nothing is misunderstood. You have room. We’ll stay here.”
Ava looked at him in a way that sent a chill down his spine. He knew what was happening in Paris, he wasn’t a fool, after all. Refugees were registered, and many were taken away to labor camps. He simply wanted to protect his family from a fate that was likely impossible to stop.
There was an expression on Julien’s face the professor didn’t recognize, as if he were the teacher, rather than his own father, the one who knew right from wrong. Professor Lévi felt that if he erred here he might lose his son’s respect entirely. “Of course, then you must be our guests,” he was obliged to say.
Claire had come to stand beside her husband. Immediately, he felt her annoyance, as people do when they’ve been married for many years. Certainly, his wife was exasperated with him. He had agreed to allow refugees into their home, people she didn’t even know. On top of the unwanted visitors, Madame Lévi had discovered the housemaid was missing. When she pursued the matter, she found Marianne’s room was neatly made up, her four gray uniforms pressed and hanging in the wardrobe.
“Can you cook?” Madame asked Ava now that she’d realized they were without help. Above all else, she was practical. Perhaps the current situation could serve them both.
“I can as well as anyone else,” Ava responded.
Pleased by this news, the professor’s wife changed her mind. “They can have the maid’s room.” At least for now was not said aloud but her meaning was clear.
“But where will Marianne be?” the professor asked, confused.
“Marianne has deserted us,” Madame Lévi informed her husband. She turned to Ava. “So