Tom hoped to make contact with one of the local Résistance groups operating near the French border, which would then conduct Elena to a safe house outside of Nice, where she would be able to remain for several days. She would then need to decide where to go next, for with the Germans now occupying the Vichy-governed territory of France, no shelter was secure for very long. As Tom explained to her, at least she had convincing false identity papers, provided by the Resistenza, as well as some money. Her small cache of various European currencies was as yet untouched, as was the jewelry she had brought with her. Both could easily be exchanged for food or safe conduct, as needed. But as she listened to Tom’s assessment of her situation, her eyes began to fill with tears, and she soon found herself sobbing uncontrollably. “What’s wrong, Elena?” he asked. “How can I help?” He pulled the old truck that they were driving in to the side of the road, and leaning over, handed her his brown neckerchief. She took it from him wordlessly, dropping it in her lap as she continued to cry.
