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on a rock with a rifle at his side. A large bag lay next to him. His shoulder was stained dark with blood. “Maman?” asked Antoine. Georgine clapped a hand over her son’s mouth. “Darlings, go behind that rock. Stay there. Do not make a sound. Promise?” They did as they were told and Georgine rejoined Chloé at the tree line. She was holding a large rock in both hands. “What are you doing?” “He has food, Madame,” said Chloé. Georgine was immediately aware and terrified of her intentions. The soldier looked strong and young. “The children are here,” whispered Georgine. “Yes. And they need food.” Chloé pulled up the hem of her skirt and tucked it into her waistband so that her legs were showing. She moved silently through the trees and emerged on the bright grass. Georgine stood frozen, gripping the tree in front of her. Chloé made sure not to cast her shadow on the soldier and raised the rock above her head. She slammed it into the side of his face. The soldier woke and his legs flailed, sending Chloé to the ground. He rubbed his jaw and cursed. He caught sight of the red rock, leapt to his feet, and kicked Chloé hard in the stomach. She cried out. Georgine felt something brush past her thigh. Antoine’s blond head appeared in the clearing, the sunlight shining on it, and he threw pebbles at the soldier. “Leave her alone!” he shouted.
Margaret Cogswell
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