The morning light crept in through the narrow windows, casting a pale glow over the room. The fire in the hearth had died down to embers, and the air felt colder, as if the house itself had sensed the weight of what was to come. Élodie sat on the edge of a worn wooden chair, her fingers tracing the edges of the map Sophie had laid out the night before.
Luc stood by the window, scanning the horizon, his gaze hard and distant. The tension between them was palpable. The mission, the danger—they could feel it closing in.
"We can't stay here long," Sophie's voice was calm, but there was a note of urgency in it. She was already gathering her things, preparing for the next move. "The Gestapo will eventually realize that we've passed through, and they'll begin questioning everyone in the village."
Élodie didn't answer at first. The idea of moving again—of leaving behind everything they had fought so hard for—made her feel like she was losing control. But she knew Sophie was right. The clock was ticking. Every moment spent here brought them closer to disaster.
"So, what's the plan?" Luc's voice broke through her thoughts. "Where are we going next?"
Sophie pointed to a marked location on the map, a small town further to the north. "There's a Resistance cell there. They can help us, give us what we need to stay one step ahead of the Gestapo."
Élodie's eyes followed the route Sophie indicated, her mind racing. This was it—the next phase of their journey. And it was just as dangerous as everything that had come before. There was no going back.
"We leave at first light," Sophie added, rolling up the map and tucking it into her bag. "We'll meet with the cell, get their help, and then we plan our next move from there."
Élodie nodded, standing up and stretching her stiff muscles. Her body still felt the strain of the night's escape. She couldn't shake the images of Vincent, of his final moments. The pain was still raw, a wound that wouldn't heal anytime soon.
Luc looked at her, his expression softening. "You okay?" he asked, his voice quiet.
She hesitated, trying to find the right words. The truth was, she didn't know. How could she? Everything was a blur of grief and adrenaline, and now they were being forced to keep moving, to keep fighting.
"I will be," she said finally, meeting his gaze. "I have to be."
The decision was made. There was no other option. They couldn't afford to stop. Not now. Not when so much was at stake.