Camille leaned against the wall, pointing her pistol at the secret door. As soon as it cracked open, she would fire. She was confident she would hit the first German. The second would be too startled to react. She would shoot him, too. She only worried that Mme. Abadie may get caught in the crossfire.
“My store is right below,” Mme. Abadie said to the soldiers. “I can take you downstairs to see it. You can go out that way.”
Mme. Abadie’s statement was met with silence, neither German speaking. Camille suspected they eyed her cautiously, gauging her sincerity. She tensed, her grip tightening on the pistol.
A few seconds later, a light pair of footsteps started down the stairs. “It’s this way,” Mme. Abadie said.
After a slight pause, the Germans followed, their boots pounding the steps.
