Linda tried to keep the despair from her voice. “Not a soul. After I left the Lamirand apartment, I went to the Café Marius, do you remember it? I used to meet Andre there for lunch. I used the telephone and I called and called. Hardly anyone is still in town.” She found only a few at home. She told Linda of her guarded inquiry to several, she had a friend, someone she trusted, who knew of someone who needed to cross the line, not openly, and did they have an idea what she might tell them? The cold long empty pauses. So sorry. No idea. None at all. Her stiff good byes. “What if one of them turns us in?” Linda asked, her voice small. “I don’t think anyone will. They just don’t want to get involved themselves.” Linda clasped her hands tightly together. “What are we going to do?” The heat pressed against them. Not a breath of air stirred, the drapes hanging heavy and lifeless by the open windows.
