The Girl You Left Behind

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My sister reached out, then gave a small cry. Nestling in the blankets, swaddled neatly so that it was barely exposed to the night air, was the pink, hairy snout of the piglet. And shoes. Of kid leather. Of course, she dare not wear them out in the day. She knows she would get lynched.” Monsieur Suel, Herr Kommandant, comes here at least twice a month attempting to persuade us that in the absence of our husbands we are in need of his particular brand of comfort. Because we have chosen not to avail ourselves of his supposed kindness, he repays us with rumors and a threat to our lives.” The food came the following Friday. First the eggs, two dozen, delivered by a young German corporal, who brought them in covered with a white sheet, as if he were delivering contraband. Then bread, white and fresh, in three baskets. I had gone off bread a little since that day in the boulangerie, but to hold fresh loaves, crusty and warm, left me almost drunk with desire. I had to send Aurélien upstairs, I was so afraid he would be unable to resist the temptation to break off a mouthful.

You may close up now,” the Kommandant said. I tried not to bristle visibly. “My men wish to convey to you their gratitude for an excellent meal.” The child watched her mother, silent and solemn. Sometimes I wondered if I would ever see Mimi laugh again. It feels... it feels like we have exchanged one bully for another. Sometimes I suspect I will spend my whole life bent to somebody else’s will. You, Sophie, I see you laughing. I see you determined, so brave, putting up paintings, shouting at Germans, and I don’t understand where it comes from. I can’t remember what it was like not to be afraid.”Nobody will say anything. Everyone hates the Boche.” I shrugged. “Besides, they all want a piece of pork. They’re hardly going to inform on us before their food arrives.” Another great read by Jojo Moyes. She sure knows how to write a powerful story, all the while weaving in polarizing topics, and different topic strands & well developed characters. Most of her protagonists feel like good friends by the end of the book. After I really loved Me Before You, I a) immediately fell into a slump and b) attempted to remedy said slump by acquiring as many Jojo Moyes books as possible. And I've learned that liking that book, which I am terrified I'll reread and hate and hence will forever avoid, may have been my sole positive Moyes experience. How she has the nerve...” Madame Durant was never happier than when she was outraged by somebody else’s behavior. “I suppose she has to eat, like everyone else,” I said.

In front of their snouts,” said Aurélien, who seemed suddenly to have recovered some of his swagger. “Hah! You held it in front of their snouts!” Almost a century later, Sophie's portrait is given to Liv Halston by her young husband shortly before his sudden death. A chance encounter reveals the painting's true worth, and a battle begins for who its legitimate owner is--putting Liv's belief in what is right to the ultimate test.

She would not have survived this without you. You have grown into such a fine young woman. Paris was good for you.”