Camille Facet slept in her little room above her parents cafe. She had worked extremely hard the day before, and was not looking forward to starting another shift this morning. Still, she knew that her parents could not afford to bring in any more employees, and she and her older brother, Louis, were the only servers they could afford to use.
"Camille!" shouted Mrs. Facet.
Camille let out a sigh and crawled out of her bed; she rubbed her eyes and left the room. She went to the top of the stairs and saw her mother waiting impatiently for her.
"Qu'est-ce que c'est, mère?" asked Camille.
"Nous ouvrirons bientôt; laver votre visage, et rentrer dans vos vêtements." said Mrs. Facet.
"Oui, Madame."
Camille returned to her room and poured lukewarm water from a pitcher and into a basin. She cuffed her hands together and dipped them in the water, and then splashed her face. After a few more splashes, she grabbed a rag and dried her face.
"Camille pressé, vous devez prendre le petit déjeuner avant de nous ouvrir." shouted Mrs. Facet.
"Je viens, mère!" shouted Camille.
Camille quickly slipped into her clothes, which only consisted of a yellow blouse, and a skirt that fell only inches below her knee. She placed her hair in a low-bun and then made her way downstairs, where her mother and father were preparing the cafe.
"Bonjour." greeted Camille.
"Bonjour, cher." said Mr. Facet, while beginning to brew a warm pot-of-coffee.
Camille looked around the cafe and noticed that a very important person was missing from the staff: Louis.
"Où est Louis?" asked Camille.
"Il est allé à la boucherie, pour reprendre un peu de viande pour les sandwiches. Il sera de retour prochainement."
Camille nodded and began to help her parents, by grabbing a broom and sweeping up the floor. It was her favorite chore, as there really wasn't any trash on the floor; just a few cigarette buds and crumbs from some of the meals.
"Let me in! Please!" A voice shouted.
Camille turned to the door when she heard someone shouting; she dropped her broom in horror, when she saw a man at the door to the cafe, covered from head-to-toe in blood. Camille acted quickly and unlocked the door, and the man collapsed at her feet.
"Mère! Père!" shouted Camille.
Camille's parents heard her calling and ran to the front of the cafe, where they saw her trying her best to stop the man's bleeding wounds.
"Une taverne ... quelqu'un m'a tiré dessus ..." moaned the man.
"Il n'est pas de la France, c'est sûr." said Mr. Facet.
"Monsieur, J'ai appris l'anglais. Maintenant, pouvez-vous me dire ce qui s'est passé?" asked Camille.
The man at first didn't seem to understand what Camille had told him, but after looking at her face, he knew exactly what she wanted.
"I-I was at this tavern...There were Nazis there...All I can remember is killing someone and then...th-then I was here." said the man.
"What is your name?" asked Camille.
"Stiglitz..." The man winced briefly. "Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz."