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“It’s fine,” Fabienne said. “You need to listen to me, about Schmidt.”

“You’re a lousy liar. Just make sure it doesn’t get infected.” Johanna wanted to remove Fabienne’s jacket, her shirt, and feel her soft, warm skin. “I can have Schmidt moved and get someone else in. Müller seems to be a bit better today, but he’s very weak after the illness and not always lucid. It will be a few days at least before he can get back to work.” Fabienne gritted her teeth. “What is it?”

Fabienne shook her head. “Nothing. It’s fine. Leave Schmidt where he is. He is meticulous, but I think he can also be manipulated if the offer is right, and he is going to be here longer than you think.”

Johanna frowned. “You’re keeping things from me.”

Fabienne smiled. “Yes. But you will find out soon enough. The less you know—”

“The better. Yes, you told me.” Johanna indicated to the shelves. “I’ve started storing food, as you asked.”

Fabienne kissed her. “Thank you. We are going to need more food and any information you hear from your husband. Be careful. If you get caught…” She sighed. “There is something I must talk to you about, at another time.” She stroked Johanna’s cheek. “You are beautiful.”

Johanna smiled at how adept Fabienne was, talking about work and paying her a compliment in the same moment. She would have liked to spend time alone with Fabienne without any conversation, to get to know every part of her. “I know all the objections to us being together, Fabienne. But I can’t not…”

Fabienne stared at her with such intensity, Johanna melted. “Not, what?”

“Love you.” Johanna said. She was shaking from the inside out. She hadn’t felt like this before, and she couldn’t make sense of it now. It was frightening, exciting and all-consuming. She’d never felt more alive than in Fabienne’s arms, with Fabienne kissing her.

Fabienne gave her a thin-lipped smile that left her feeling like a child who’d been chastised, then she looked away. “Love is dangerous, Johanna.”

She turned Fabienne to face her, waited until Fabienne looked at her. “You should be more afraid of the alternative. Without love, we are the worst kind of animals. Surely the war has taught you that.”

Fabienne didn’t respond.

Sometimes she could appear younger than Johanna believed her to be. She was usually so self-assured and driven, the arrogance of youth maybe, but Johanna had seen the softer, sensitive side of her, and the wisdom that came with experience. Fabienne had seen things beyond her years, as they all had. But there was a part of Fabienne that needed to feel loved as much as Johanna did, Johanna was sure of it.

“You think love is weak. You are wrong. It’s a bond so strong that it cannot be broken. I would do anything for you, to save you. Anything.”

Fabienne looked away. “And when you lose me, or I lose you, what then?”

Johanna tilted her head to the side and waited until Fabienne looked at her. “Then, I will be happy to have had the chance to love you. Can we truly know love without loss?”

Fabienne shook her head.

Johanna started up the stairs, leaving her to ponder, or do whatever else she wanted, more than a little aggrieved that Fabienne hadn’t responded with an admission of love for Johanna.

24.

FABIENNE HAD KEPT HER distance from Johanna in the three days since their encounter in the cellar while desperate to hold her, protect her and feel comforted by her. She’d watched Johanna from a distance, playing with Astrid, putting on a brave face it seemed. But Fabienne saw the hurt, and her heart ached because she had been the one to cause it. She should have told Johanna how she felt.

The truth was as blinding as the sun. Whether she admitted to being in love or not, if she lost Johanna her heart would break into thousands of tiny shards, and she wouldn’t recover from the devastation.

Why did loving Johanna make her feel so vulnerable? In the past, she would have been happy for the company and enjoyed whatever the encounter would offer. With Johanna, it wasn’t just an encounter. She had allowed herself to get close, all the while knowing this thing between them was too powerful for her to control. She’d fallen willingly and hopelessly in love. But until the war was over, there was little she could do about it. Firstly, they had to survive. Then, they could talk.

Mamie ladled stew onto the plates for Nanny, Schmidt and Hauptmann Müller. She set two plates on the table with a basket of bread.

“I will take his dinner in.” Fabienne put the third plate on a tray. It had been a week since he’d eaten the mushrooms and four days since he’d taken to his bed. Johanna had said he seemed to be improving, but Fabienne couldn’t take the risk that he might recover enough to start work again. “I doubt that he’ll eat it.” She walked through the house and into the annex, knocked on Müller’s door and entered without waiting for him to respond.

He moaned something unintelligible.

“I have your food.”

She approached his bed and put the tray on the side table. He was pale, his cheeks gaunt, his eyes sunken into dark hollows. He was smaller, reedier. He was fading away. But not quickly enough. The fever had abated. If the mushrooms were going to do their job now, it would be weeks while they attacked his kidneys, maybe months or even years. She didn’t have the time for that, and she had a promise to keep to Madame.

She perched on the side of the bed. He tried to move to stop her, but like a leaf on a breeze his arm fell under its own weight, and he huffed out a weary breath. “What do you want?”

Though his tone lacked the fiery anger, he spat the words like a floored boxer trying to throw a punch from the ground.