The farmhouse cellar was dark and damp, smelling of potatoes and fear. For three days, the Miller family had hidden here while the battle for their village raged above. Thirteen-year-old Marie clutched her father's pocket watch, the only thing he had left behind when the soldiers came.
Her mother prayed. Her little brother slept. Marie held the watch, pressing its cool gold case to her cheek, listening for the tick that meant her father was still alive somewhere. He had been taken for forced labor months ago. The watch was all they had of him.
Above, the guns fell silent. Then boots on