1944
Boulangerie Lambert
Near La Plaza Victor Hugo
Paris, France
Matteo

 I woke up to Coralie, who was shaking me. Her face shone with excitement and pure joy. 
 "Matteo!"
 "...Ja?"
 "We're going to the service at Notre-Dame, Renada has an accomplice who will help you escape!"
 "She told you I was escaping? "
 "You can't hide everything, Matteo," smiled Coralie. "Even though the possibility of Leo being alive is inconceivable to Renada and Astraia, you still have to be brought over to Switzerland safely."

 I looked up at her, her words sinking in.

"I'll meet you downstairs in...let's say, 15 minutes?"
 

"Of course."

Once I was dressed, I helped myself to some freshly baked Pain d'épices and greeted Astraia who stood by the door, still sober. 
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              "בוקרטוב"

"Good morning, Astraia," I said softly.
She gave a soft smile, but she cocked her head in Renada's direction, shaking her head. Renada was helping Madame Lambert with the dishes, despite her laughter that rang in the room as they exchanged pleasantries, there was a twinge of sadness and torment in her voice. 

Once we stepped out of the Boulangerie, we scurried down the alleyways and off to Notre Dame. The cathedral's intricate façade, adorned with countless sculptures, statues, and decorative elements, seemed to be a testament, to honour the artisanal skills of the talented craftsmen who built it centuries ago. Saints and figures from the old testament that were carved from stone were weathered with time, but yet Notre Dame hitherto still exuded the grandeur and historical significance for which it was most renowned, but it bore the scars of a city and nation in the midst of a tumultuous period, standing tall and proud amidst the darkened landscape of Swastikas. We walked inside, greeted by the splendour, the tall stained glass windows illuminating our faces as the light seeped through. The intricate rose window at the western façade welcomed us in, and  before the main altar, a choir was preparing to sing during the service. 

   We all knelt down before the altar, our heads raised, looking at the clergy who arrived in the procession with the crown of thorns, encased in gold and precious