The days passed in an uneasy blur, the world outside Saint-Céleste's quiet village growing more oppressive with each passing hour. Élodie could feel the weight of her decisions pressing on her, each moment she spent with Liam drawing her further into the unknown. The air was thick with the tension of war, and the village that had once been her sanctuary now felt like a fragile shell, too delicate to survive the storm brewing beyond the Pyrenees.
Suzanne had become more withdrawn, her eyes constantly scanning the horizon, as if expecting the worst at any moment. Élodie shared that unease, but she had become adept at hiding it behind a mask of quiet resolve. Each morning, she would tend to Liam, checking his wound, administering the herbs Suzanne had provided, and silently hoping for a miracle. She would whisper to him, as if her voice could coax him back to consciousness.
But even as she cared for him, the reality of the situation was never far from her mind. Luc's words echoed in her thoughts, his anger a constant presence in the back of her mind. She knew he was right—her decision to keep Liam hidden was a dangerous one. Every hour spent with him brought them closer to disaster, but Élodie couldn't turn away. Not now. Not after everything they had been through together.
There were days when she would catch glimpses of Luc in the distance, his figure framed against the hills, a reminder of the life she had left behind. She had once believed in the cause—had once been certain that the Resistance was the only thing that mattered. But now, with Liam lying in her care, everything had changed. The line between duty and desire had blurred, and she didn't know how to reconcile the two.
One evening, as the sun dipped low behind the hills, Élodie found herself standing on the balcony of Suzanne's cottage, looking out over the valley below. The golden light of the setting sun cast long shadows across the vineyard, the rows of vines now heavy with ripening grapes. It was a peaceful scene, deceptively so, and for a moment, she allowed herself to believe that things might return to some semblance of normalcy.
But then the sound of boots crunching over gravel broke the silence, and Élodie's heart skipped a beat. She turned, her eyes immediately falling on the figure of Luc, walking toward her with a determined stride. His face was set in hard lines, but there was something in his eyes—something that told her he had made a decision of his own.
"I need to talk to you," Luc said, his voice low but firm.
Élodie nodded, stepping aside to allow him onto the balcony. She could feel the weight of his presence, the familiar tension between them, and yet, there was something different now. Something irrevocable had shifted between them.
"I can't keep pretending like I don't see it," Luc said, his eyes dark with intensity. "You've made your choice, Élodie. But you need to understand something. You're not just risking your life. You're risking his life too."
She took a step back, feeling the cool night air against her skin. "I know," she said softly. "But I can't leave him, Luc. Not when he needs me."
Luc's jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. "You don't get it, do you?" he said quietly. "You're playing with fire. The Gestapo's patrols are getting closer, and if they find him here, if they find out we've been hiding an SOE agent, everything is over. For all of us. For Saint-Céleste. For the Resistance."
Élodie felt her pulse quicken, but she refused to let her fear show. "I won't abandon him," she said, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. "He's not just some agent. He's a man who's risking everything for a cause. A cause I believe in."
Luc's gaze softened, but there was no mistaking the desperation in his voice. "You think you're the only one fighting for something? You think you're the only one willing to risk everything for what you believe in?" His eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow, the space between them charged with emotion. "I can't lose you, Élodie. I won't. But you're making this impossible."
Élodie felt a pang in her chest at the intensity of his words. She knew he was right. He had been her closest friend, her confidant, for so many years. But everything had changed. And the reality of war—of the choices she had made—was heavier than anything she had ever faced.
"I don't know what you want from me, Luc," she said quietly, her voice breaking. "I never asked for this. But I can't change what I feel."
Luc stepped forward, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt. "And what do you feel?" he asked, his voice low, almost pleading.
Before she could answer, a distant sound—a low rumble, like the faint thunder of approaching storm clouds—interrupted them. The hairs on the back of Élodie's neck stood on end, and her gaze flickered toward the horizon. The noise grew louder, and she realized it wasn't thunder.
It was the unmistakable sound of engines.
"Gestapo," she whispered, panic clawing at her chest. "They're here."
Luc's face hardened. "We don't have much time."
Without another word, he grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the back of the cottage. Élodie's heart was racing as they darted through the narrow hallway, her mind screaming at her to think—think quickly—but all she could hear was the sound of footsteps growing louder outside.
They reached the back door just as the first crackle of voices reached her ears, the harsh German words too close for comfort. Luc yanked open the door, and they stumbled into the overgrown garden at the rear of the cottage.
"Go," Luc said urgently, his voice low. "Head to the forest path. I'll buy you time."
"No," Élodie protested, grabbing his sleeve. "You're coming with me."
"I'll be fine," Luc insisted, his eyes fierce. "Go. Now."
Reluctantly, Élodie nodded. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she didn't hesitate. She turned and ran, the cool night air biting at her skin as she sprinted toward the trees, the sounds of the approaching Gestapo growing louder in her ears.
She glanced back just once, to see Luc standing in the doorway, his back to the approaching threat, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.
And then, she disappeared into the darkness.