“Talk sense, Lili.”

“Uncle Edward would never contradict a superior openly, but he has . . . ways of making his disagreement known. Clearly he fought the decision to keep us in place. Fought it hard. Without quite putting it into words, he makes it clear that he thinks it far too dangerous for us to continue in operation here. He fears that Violette will be executed like Cavell, and that we’ll be caught and suffer the same fate.”

“We might.” Eve had lived with that fear so long, it seemed normal. “The Fritzes are cracking down. It’s not as if they’ve failed to notice that they have dozens of kilometers of front here where they can’t keep artillery functioning longer than a fortnight.”

Lili let out a long sigh of smoke. “Uncle Edward thinks Mustache is an idiot, but can’t countermand his direct orders. However, the hint has come very obliquely that if we were to request a transfer from Lille, pleading exhaustion or nerves, he could make it happen.”

Eve stared. “As if soldiers can simply beg off their orders—”

“Ordinary soldiers, no. Those in our line of work are different. An asset on the verge of emotional breakdown cannot be relied upon. We’d just cause damage in place; it’s far safer to yank us. So . . .”

“So.” For a moment Eve let the heady vision swamp her. No more semistarvation and German clocks and cool-skinned hands on her body. No more dreams of bullets in the back. No more danger—but that too carried a flip-side consequence. “If we p-plead out, would they re-establish us elsewhere to work? Belgium, or—”

“Probably not.” Lili flicked ash from her cigarette. “We’d be the girls who fell apart under pressure. No one puts a cracked cup back on the table and trusts it to stay in one piece.”

Go home now, and the fight would be done. However long this war went on, Eve’s chance to contribute would be over.

“We should probably do it.” Lili’s tone was objective. “Beg out. I trust Uncle Edward’s instincts over Mustache’s any day. If he thinks the danger is too great, he’s probably right.”

“Yes,” Eve acknowledged. “But we have a direct order to stay, regardless. An order. And it’s just for a few more weeks. If we keep our heads down, then once we’re recalled we’ll be sent somewhere new to work.”

“And we have been lucky so far.” Lili shrugged thin shoulders. “Better than lucky, we have been good.”

Eve let out a long breath, releasing the heady vision of home. “Then I say we stick it out. At least a little l-longer.”

“I’d decided that for myself already, but I didn’t want to unfairly influence you. You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“That’s settled, then.” Lili inspected her cigarette butt. “Damn. I’ve been saving this for a fortnight, and all I got out of it was two good puffs. I can’t tell you how I love this primitive life . . .”

Eve reached out, gripping Lili’s free hand. “Promise me you will be more careful. I worry about you.”

“What’s the use of worrying?” Lili wrinkled her nose. “Back in September, you know, I let the worrying get to me. I had a premonition of sorts, so strong I went to visit my family. I was convinced I had to see them while I could, one last time . . . When I left, I kept thinking, ‘It’s all over now; I’m going to be caught and shot.’ And nothing happened, nothing at all. Worry is wasted time, little daisy.”

Eve paused, choosing her words. “What if Violette is forced to give up your name?”

“Even if they force her to tell about me, they cannot find me. I’m a handful of water, running everywhere.” Lili smiled. “I’ll vary my routine, change my routes. I promise.” The smile faded. “Mustache is right about one thing: this won’t last much longer, of that I’m sure. There’s been a big push through Champagne; they’re sure to break through by the New Year. We’ve only to hold on a little while more.” Softly. “And then Violette will be released. If they’ll only give her a prison sentence—she can survive that.”

“What if it isn’t just a few m-months?” Eve had only been in Lille for a matter of months, but it might as well be an eternity. “What if this war lasts years?”

“Then it’s years,” Lili said. “What of it?”

What of it indeed? And neither of them gave any more thought to pleading their way home.

The news dropped into Eve’s ear just a few days later via Kommandant Hoffman and a pair of colonels, all well into their brandies. Not quite a nugget like the news of the kaiser’s visit, but important enough to make Eve’s ears prick up.

“You’re certain?” Lili was back on her rounds, having had new identity cards made in case her old names had been disclosed.

Eve nodded, perching on the edge of the rickety table. “The Germans mean to launch a massive assault in January or February of the new year. Confirmed.”

“The target?”

“Verdun.” Eve shivered slightly. There was something about the name of that place she’d never seen. A flat finality. It sounds like a killing ground. But it wouldn’t be if the generals were forewarned. Perhaps Verdun would mark the end to the killing.

“It’s a risk to you, passing this on,” Lili judged. Not all Eve’s information could be passed, not if acting on it might expose a leak in Le Lethe.

“This is important,” Eve answered. “It’s for information like this that we didn’t beg to go home.”

Lili weighed that, but finally assented. “I was already scheduled to meet Uncle Edward in Tournai in two days. You’ll have to come with me. For something like this, they’ll question us both, as they did for the kaiser report.”

Eve nodded. It would be over a Sunday; she’d miss no work. “Can you get an extra safe-conduct pass in t-time?”

“My contact hasn’t let me down yet, bless him.”

Eve gnawed at her thumbnail, already bitten to the quick. Perhaps it was Violette’s arrest, or perhaps the vicious cold of October, but she’d been fighting a wave of superstitious dread all week. Was Christine giving her a suspicious look at work, not just a scornful one? That German lieutenant who stopped talking so suddenly when Eve came with his coffee—was he aware she’d been listening? Had René, who had been so solicitous lately, sniffed out one of her lies and decided to lull her into a false sense of security before pouncing?