Page 59 of The Librarian Spy

Together, Elaine and Jean watched the two exit the warehouse, Sarah’s footsteps drowned out by the cacophonous humming and banging of the automatic printing press.

“I’d like children someday,” Jean said wistfully. “To get married after this war.”

“With a certain blond,” Elaine teased.

A flush blossomed over Jean’s young face.

“I want to help Sarah and Noah,” she said, her tone serious. “They need to be in America, to have their family reunited.”

A doubtful look crossed Jean’s face, much in the way that clouds blocked out the sun.

It was an impossible request that she was aware would take an act of God to set into motion. “Sarah hasn’t seen her husband in two years.”

“A lot of women haven’t seen their husbands in that long.” This was said with a somber sympathy reflected in Jean’s bright blue eyes.

“Yes, but she actually stands a chance of getting to him and would be safer in doing so,” Elaine said, surprised at how the truth of those words cut her. “Perhaps I am truly considering it because of my own husband.”

The door to the warehouse squealed open, and Josette scuttled through the opening. Even from a distance, she appeared diminutive, her shoulders tucked forward as if silently willing to shrink herself into nothing.

Elaine went to her friend and fought to swallow her gasp of surprise. Josette’s collarbones thrust out from her pallid skin like twigs, and the small gold crucifix seemed to droop an inch lower.

“Have you been ill?” Elaine asked, not embracing her for fear of breaking her.

A tic near Josette’s right eye quivered. “No.” She worked the corners of her mouth up in an unconvincing smile.

Elaine couldn’t help but stare in horror. “What’s happened to you?”

“I’ve been nervous lately.” Josette’s hand tightened around the basket handle, as if forcefully keeping herself from bringing her ragged nails to her lips.

“Perhaps taking some time off—”

“No.” Josette protested with such vehemence, her voice cut over the clatter of the printing press and called the attention of Jean, Marcel and even Antoine. Her gaze slid around the room, and she lowered her head with a shake of self-castigation.

“My neighbor was taken last night for harboring Jews, as well as those they were hiding,” Josette said, her volume conversational again. “Every day we aren’t doing something means more people are condemned to arrests and work camps.”

Work camps.

The words always snagged at a wounded place in Elaine’s heart and made all the worry for Joseph bubble forefront in her mind. Despite Etienne’s constant promise to unearth information, no news was ever forthcoming.

Josette pulled an envelope from the false bottom of her basket, a slight tremor to her hands. “I must deliver this to Marcel, then I’m meeting Nicole back at the apartment.”

Elaine nodded and took the item from her friend. “Take care of yourself. Please.”

Josette’s head bobbed in agreement, but the slide of her stare to the floor told Elaine the other woman wouldn’t heed the warning.

“And give Nicole my love.” Elaine embraced Josette gently, feeling nothing but fragile bones beneath her friend’s gray coat.

Marcel approached as Josette strode away. “What do you think of her?” It was the same question he asked before.

Only this time, Elaine couldn’t bring herself to remain silent. “I’m worried.” She handed the item to Marcel.

“I am too.” He didn’t look at the envelope, but instead continued to study the door Josette had departed through.

Elaine left him to his delivery and went to the automatic printing press. The machine whirred with the flashing of papers, the spinning of gears and metal arms that reached and grabbed and shifted. Her own thoughts were precisely the same: in constant motion, flexing around worry and concern. For Josette whose composed nature was unraveling like a sweater with a loose thread. For Sarah and Noah who understood the poignancy of loss and the fear of losing more. For Manon and the pain of what she endured. For Joseph and how little information Elaine possessed of his location or health.

Perhaps being so lost in her thoughts kept her from noticing Etienne walk into the room.

“Elaine.”