'...I do not want the child!' The words came out loud - louder than the thin walls could bear. His great, brown eyes were suffused with sadness. 'Ah, Simone, then she will die.' He sat down behind his desk - a desk littered with paper. 'There is to be a rafle tomorrow. The plan to herd families together in the Velodrome d'Hiver, and from there...' 'I do not know what you are talking about.' Simone wispered this time. 'But I don't want to be involved. Not now - not ever.' Pierre looked up at her startled. 'But you are involved Simone. You are alive -n'est ce pas?'