Emilie eyed Jacques closely as they ate dinner. She had questioned him twice about the Gestapo phone call, getting vague explanations each time. She hadn’t pressed him, hoping he would gradually reveal more. But he had said little, even avoiding her.
His face had paled when she said the call came from Tournai. But he had recovered quickly, claiming it was a mistake. He might have more information now—how close the Gestapo were, or if Camille had been captured. He was home so rarely that she wanted to take the opportunity to learn more.
“Did you ever find out why the Gestapo called?” she asked, trying to seem casual. “Were they able to contact you?”
“No, I never talked to them,” he said and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s strange, probably a mistake. Likely a railroad question someone else
