The Greene Effect - REWRITE!!

CHAPTER TEN - PARIS

Amelia Greene -

Sometimes I wished I had taken French in school. Mom told me that it was a waste of my time, because no one spoke French in Maine. Unless I planned to study abroad, it would be better for me to take up an elective that truly interested me.

Who would've guessed I'd be wishing I took a semester under these circumstances.

Zussman and Daniels were the only reasons we were able to make it into Paris. They don't even realize what they've done. I'd be surprised if they weren't honored with some sort of medal after this is over.

Rousseau, the female Liaison, as feisty as it gets, and made us, as I suspected, go through that wreckage till we found something of use. It took hours, but eventually, something was found and we could head into Paris.

Getting into Paris itself was not that difficult as it was impossible for every single entrance into the city to be under close watch. We had to be silent and move in small groups, but we all made it safely.

She's a mystery. I can tell she's closer in age to Pierson and Turner than us, give or take a few years. Something about her is beautifully tragic, however, and I know by the sadness in her eyes and the way she holds her chin up high.

Much like my knowledge on her, I only vaguely know of the real reason we're here in Paris. It has everything to do with the Garrison, a Nazi fortress in the middle of the city. We're going to force the Germans into surrender and take the city back after four long years.

Or, so we hope.

We're in a high rise townhouse a few blocks away from the extravagant base. Lights that scan the sky for enemy planes light up as soon as night falls, and the Nazi flags are big enough to be seen from here. Perhaps burned.

The city's quiet. There's a curfew, which means the citizens are trapped in their own homes after a certain hour, in their city, by men who are from another country. I can sense their frustration. It hangs thick in the air. They need a victory.

But all of us being in a single three-story place, once again surrounded by hundreds of Germans, unleashes unnatural levels of anxiety in me. I can't help but think of what will happen if we fail.

We almost did with the train, and there was no way we could have that luck again. This time, all we had is sheer will power.

So, when I got too overwhelmed, I'd go out onto the balcony that overlooks the city and the top half of The Garrison.

It's high enough up that no one will spot us if we're up there. I get fresh air, a night sky, and a sight of the world-famous city. A fun game to play is pretending you were in your formal best, overlooking the view from your five star hotel. As if there wasn't a plague spreading.

I open up the door to the outside, expecting it to be empty. I pause as I see Pierson look back in surprise, previously leaning on the railing.

A smile works it ways onto my face; I wish I knew how to stop it. He makes a move to leave but I raise my hand, shutting the door. "You're alright."

He stops and keeps his eyes on me as I walk up next to him. We're alone, nothing but the breeze and him and I. "You okay, sir?" I lean on the railing two feet away from him, relaxing to show I wasn't on defense.

"Yes," he replies with a throaty voice. "What are you doing out here?" He's smoking a cigarette, considerate enough to go outside, unlike most of the men here. He's more mellow than usual. Perhaps the view has the same effect on him.

"I needed some fresh air . . and space." He blinks, drawing away. "You're not invading. I don't mind."

"I don't know why, but you're confusing." I turn my head, looking up at him. The moonlight above our heads hit him more than it does me. Like rain would reach the top of his head first. Morning sun brightening the highlights in his hair first.