mean, good.” He’s standing by the window, and the morning light streams across his face and turns his hair to gold.

“I’m fine.” I smile at Lucas, but I can’t stop staring at Dean. He’s so different from what I expected. Younger. Tougher. Harsher.

“Listen to her!” Mary yells at Dean. The two of them are facing each other, only a foot apart. “She doesn’t even have a little bit of a German accent!”

Dr. Bentley picks up a pipe from a nearby table and lights it. He seems unconcerned by the shouting match between Dean and Mary. I suspect it’s a regular occurrence.

Mary turns to me. Her nose is scrunched up and her hands are clenched at her sides. “Lydia, tell him. Tell him you’re not a spy!”

I look at Dean, his long face, sharp jaw, and heavy brows, his frown. I certainly never thought my great-grandfather would hate me on sight. The thought is disappointing and, somehow, I’m a little hurt.

“I’m not a spy.” My voice is softer and quieter than I’d intended.

Mrs. Bentley gives Dean a look. “No one thinks you are, dear.”

Dean runs a hand over his short dark hair. He avoids everyone’s stares and looks out the front window. “If I really thought she was a spy, do you think I would have let her leave the base? Do you think any of the officers at Hero would have?”

I let out a breath, but he isn’t finished yet.

“That doesn’t mean she’s a trustworthy person, or that my family should be taking in strangers off the street.”

The smoke from Dr. Bentley’s pipe floats into the air, and the spicy scent reminds me of my grandfather. Thinking of him makes me feel instantly stronger. He’s the reason I’m here. I can face anything for him.

I turn to Dr. and Mrs. Bentley. “I know I’m a stranger. It means a lot to me that you’d take me in and help me when I have no other options. I promise I won’t overstay my welcome.”

The lines of Dean’s face are severe in the sunlit room. “What if you already have?”

Mary throws herself down onto the couch next to her father. “Gee whiz, Dean, leave her alone! You never know when to stop.” She crosses her arms, clearly finished with the topic.

Lucas frowns as he watches the scene. He looks like he wants to say something, but whatever it is, he holds his tongue. He catches me looking at him and his face smoothes into a slight smile. I give him an identical look, grateful that I’m not the only non–family member here.

As far as they know.

“Dean.” Mrs. Bentley stands up. The room falls silent. She steps forward until she’s right next to me. I smell her perfume, rose water and mint. “Lydia needs our help, and our family helps those in need. Now we’ll ask around town to see if anyone has heard of her aunt. What did you say her name was, dear?”

“Julia Roberts,” I mumble.

“Of course. Julia Roberts. But until then, Lydia is a welcome guest in our home.”

I scan the room, stopping at Dean’s scowling face. “I promise I won’t be a burden.”

As I say the words, I wonder if it’s a promise I’ll be able to keep.

A little while later, I sit outside on the front steps and watch as Dean’s jeep disappears down the dusty driveway. He’s heading back to Camp Hero to work on his mysterious project—a project I’m no closer to figuring out. I turn away and stare out at the Bentleys’ yard. The grass is short and neat and there are flower beds tucked around the side of the house. In the far corner is a large vegetable garden with pale green sprouts rising from the ground. Mrs. Bentley calls it a Victory Garden, where she grows food for the family so they don’t have to live only on rations.

The door opens behind me and I look up. Lucas is standing there. He stares down at me. “How are you?”

I take a deep breath. “I wanted to thank you. Without your help, I’d still be wandering around the camp right now.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He comes forward and sits on the step, close enough that the fabric of my dress grazes his leg. “Everything will be just dandy, you’ll see.”

“Just dandy?” I repeat, smiling.

“Are you teasing me?” When he smiles the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly.

“I thought only old ladies used that word.”

“You shouldn’t make fun of an old country boy.”

“Where are you from, anyway?”

“White Plains, Georgia. A tiny town in the middle of nowhere.”

There’s a slight breeze in the air that ruffles my skirt. I lift my face into the wind and close my eyes, breathing in the early summer smell of Montauk: fresh earth and the sharp scent of the ocean.

I open my eyes to find Lucas watching me. “So how did you end up at Camp Hero?” I ask.

He clasps his hands between his knees. “I was sent to the Western Front after training. Bomb went off nearby one day. I was fine but lost my hearing for a few weeks. I was classified as injured. They sent me back here to help train new recruits over at Hero. I’m lucky, really. Not to be on the front lines.” He smiles, but there’s disappointment hidden behind his expression.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Lucky maybe, but you’re not happy about it, are you?”

He tilts his head, surprised. “No, not happy exactly. I’d rather be back in Europe. I’m not much help over here.”

“That’s not true. You’re training soldiers, aren’t you? That’s a huge job.”

“You’re right.” He laughs softly. “And someone has to find lost girls wandering around the base.”

“You’re my hero.” I mean to say it sarcastically, but somehow it comes out sounding sincere. He looks at me strangely. “Anyway,” I say quickly, trying to cover up the awkward moment. “Thanks again. I don’t know what came over me.”

His smile falls. “Grief makes you do things you wouldn’t normally.”

The front door

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