Lucien stayed at the window, watching for Germans. He eyed the clock, waiting for Camille to return. A few minutes passed, and then a few more. What could she be doing with the Englishman’s clothes?
The kitchen door opened, and she came in. “Where were you?” he asked.
“I had to do something with Henry’s clothes,” she said. “We can’t keep them in here.”
“If we hid Henry, we can hide his uniform,” he scoffed.
She was quiet, watching him. “The Germans who come next won’t be as easy to fool.”
“Why would more Germans come? Belgium surrendered. The fighting is in France.”
“The forces that occupy Belgium are assisted by the Gestapo. They’re ruthless, far more dangerous than those who passed through to chase an enemy that had already run away.”
Lucien realized she was right. They couldn’t u
