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They were drawing near to her building. To the library.

To Kraus, sagged against the door as always.

She paused, not wanting the young man to hear them.

“Then why hasn’t he paid for it already?

If he’s guilty of murdering another officer, why was he still free to break into my office today and threaten me? ”

She wasn’t about to tell this man who clearly savored the chance to be someone’s champion that she’d take a dozen black eyes, if it meant she had the chance to break that monster’s nose.

Yes, Father Serres would definitely have something to say about her sudden bloodlust, when she confessed it. She could already feel the ache in her knees from all the time she’d have to spend on them, praying that God would change her hatred into his own love.

Gustaf grunted. “The other soldiers who were there are backing him. And Ackermann still has that letter from a student claiming Bauer was a dissident before his son died.” He winced and started them forward again.

“But regardless of that, he’s gone too far by threatening the rector into dismissing you.

He has no authority over the workings of the educational institutions in France. None.”

Perhaps she should have been irritated that Gustaf’s offense was more the affront to his own pride than to her position, but frankly, she didn’t care why he was on her side.

The point remained that he’d secured her position again, at least for now.

And that he was trying to get justice for Christian.

She appreciated it, even if it wouldn’t change anything. Even if he failed, which was likely.

Perhaps in the grand scheme, it didn’t matter if Ackermann paid for what he’d done. Perhaps it would have to be enough that God would mete out eternal justice in its proper time.

Perhaps she needed to start praying now that she could see that monster as the man whose salvation God craved. Because at the moment, she couldn’t. She could only see the one who’d tried to kill the man she loved.

“Although.” Gustaf’s voice shifted, as had his face, when she looked over at him. Gone was the fire. In its place, something that looked strangely like apology. “That is why I was seeking you out this afternoon. I wanted you to hear it from me before someone else.”

Her every muscle went still. “So I am being dismissed?”

His hands lifted, his eyes went wide. “No! That is...well, everyone is. The Sorbonne is shutting down. Today is the last day. All students will be dismissed back to their provinces. Local ones will have to report every morning to the police.”

She could only stare at him, his words scarcely making sense. “But...why?”

He sighed, motioning toward Paris at large.

“All the graffiti on the posters and mocking the Reich—we know it’s them.

The students. We’ve found pamphlets circulating too, too well written to be from anyone but the university crowd.

You, Dr. Bastien, are a worthy professor—but your students are dangerous.

I have conferred with my superiors in the Ministry, and we decided this was the safest course of action.

But you needn’t worry!” He smiled, as if he weren’t tearing apart everything she’d worked for.

“The lower schools will remain open, for the younger children. I happen to know of several positions for which you’ll be perfectly suited. ”

Positions she could find on her own, with no help from him. But she wasn’t going to argue. Wasn’t going to turn his favor into ire. She forced a smile, knowing that if it didn’t look quite sincere, he’d chalk it up to her swollen face. “I do thank you for the courtesy of letting me know.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

He was right about that.

Kraus came to attention as they neared—and then darted toward the gate. “Dr. Bastien! What happened?” He sent an accusing look at Gustaf.

“Ackermann,” Gustaf shot back, effectively bringing Kraus to a halt and making him pale.

He sought her eyes, as if hoping she’d deny it.

She didn’t. She stepped away from Gustaf’s arm though. “Thank you for ensuring I got home safely, Sonderführer. Good afternoon, Kraus. If you’ll both excuse me...” She hurried into her building before either could detain her and made it all the way into her flat before anyone else saw her.

She needed some aspirin. More ice. To lie down for a few minutes. And more than any of that, she just needed to be among the people she loved.

Christian wasn’t just sitting—he was sitting in the living room . She had a feeling Oncle Georges had all but carried him there, but even so, joy pounded at the cage of her ribs when she saw him in his chair, a book in his lap, while Felix built a castle on the floor.

Christian, her Christian. Alive and healing and looking at her bruised, swollen eye with the exact same horror as her uncle.

Georges leapt to his feet, horror turning to fury. “What happened?”

She gave them both a smirk. “Don’t worry. You should see what I did to the other guy.”