1942,

Paris,France

Matteo

Renada led me to a nearby boulangerie, where a burly, unshaven man in his forties stood behind the counter alongside a willowy 14-year-old girl with bright blue eyes and pale blonde hair.

"Ah, Demoiselle De Gouges! Always a pleasure to see you," the man exclaimed, breaking into a warm smile. He then turned his attention to me. "And who might this young gentleman be?"

"Matteo Engel, Monsieur Louis. A friend. He's German," Renada introduced me. "We're awaiting the arrival of another friend who's busy in Berlin at the moment. He'll be staying with me temporarily."

"That's very kind of you," said the boulanger named Louis. He motioned for the girl to fetch a loaf of bread. "Food is scarce, lives hang in the balance. Medicine is a rarity. Famine is rampant. Yet, we humble bakers can't even afford to send our children to universities. And because of that, my dear girl Coralie is stuck here in Paris baking bread instead of pursuing her dreams of becoming the next Katharine Hepburn!" He let out a sigh. The girl, Coralie, approached me and handed over the wrapped loaf of bread.

"Dankë, Fraulein."

"De rien," she responded, her voice tinged with timidity.

Renada settled the payment with Louis and exchanged goodbyes with him and Coralie.

"I think Monsieur Louis' daughter has taken quite a liking to you, Matteo," Renada remarked as we walked along the