Each And Every Spark – Claire Swinarski

But the women and the kids could be so much sneakier, and they did a ton of damage. Under-the-radar type stuff. Kids could go most places, and they were small, so nobody suspected them. They could transmit messages, work radios. . . .” So Marie Bonnet could have been a kid? Woah. “Where did you hear of her?

A book or something?” Matthew asked. Penny was about to lie or tell him it was none of his business. Besides, his boy stink was really starting to get to her. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but then— She stopped. And she didn’t know why. She didn’t know why, other than . . . ever since moving to Paris, she’d felt that creeping sense of aloneness.

She had hardly anyone to talk to, besides her mother, who she was still mad at most of the time. That all- alone-in-the-universe feeling clung to her, and here was her brother. Not teasing her, or ranting about the Milwaukee Wave soccer team, or ganging up on her with Mason.

But actually talking to her, and being interested in what she was interested in. And it felt, in a weird way, kind of nice. Like something they could have a real conversation about that didn’t involve soccer trophies. Like he saw her as a person, instead of just a nuisance. She took a deep breath. “I . . . found a letter she wrote.

Okay? I found a letter she wrote, and I’m just trying to figure out who she was. That’s all.” “A letter?” His eyes widened. “Cool. Can I see it?” She narrowed her eyes. “The skateboard . . .” He put a hand to his heart. “I solemnly swear to secrecy!

And let me remind you, I was thirteen when I did that.” “I’m thirteen now! And I wouldn’t blab!” “C’mon, Pen. Please?” No. “Sure.” Who was she? Sharing secrets with her brother? But something made her reach down into her sketchbook, where she kept the letter neatly folded. She handed it to him, and he took it carefully.

“It’s old,” she warned him. “Don’t smudge it.” “Oh my gosh,” he muttered, looking over it. “This is . . . wow, Penny. This is really, really amazing. Where’d you get this?” Well, she couldn’t have him ruining her whole plan, could she? “The library.

It was in a book.” “Woah. Okay, so first things first—you googled her. Obviously.” “I did,” she said. “And it came up with a few LinkedIn profiles and some stuff in French. Not super helpful.” “Didn’t you use Google Translate?” “Yeah, but none of it was her. I couldn’t find anything, I’m telling you.” “And Jeanne—no last name.

What about Héloise?” “She doesn’t have a last name either.”

For my two favorite historians: Benjamin Swinarski, who loves history more than any other kid I know, and Mark Courchane, who always knew I could do it. OceanofPDF.com Epigraph Beauty will save the world. —Fyodor Dostoevsky OceanofPDF.com Contents Cover Title Page Dedication Epigraph 1: September, present day 2: November 1943 3: October, present day 4: December 1943 5: October, present day 6: January 1944 7: October, present day 8: January 1944 9: October, present day 10: January 1944 11: November, present day 12: February 1944 13: November, present day 14: April 1944 15: November, present day 16: April 1944 17: November, present day 18: April 1944 19: November, present day 20: April 1944 21: December, present day Author’s Note Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Claire Swinarski Copyright About the Publisher OceanofPDF.com 1 September, present day “Penny!”

Penny Marks squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could. Maybe if she lay still in her creaky bed, nobody would know she was there. Maybe she could forget she was there. “Penny!” She tried to remember what her seventh-grade gym teacher had said last year when they talked about post-exercise meditating. Something about stillness being the key. Or was that Father Ariel talking about prayer in confirmation class?

Either way: stillness. She focused on the brash, rattly Paris traffic outside the apartment window. She’d always thought of Paris as jazz music and crumbling croissants and the gentle flow of the Seine, but that was before she’d been forced to move there. It was really all taxi horns and chatty tourists. Paris, like so many other things, was more jarring up close.

“Penny Lane! Bus is leaving!” her dad hollered. Okay, even she couldn’t stay still at that. She had to roll her eyes. It wasn’t like they were seriously going to leave without her. “Come on,” she heard her oldest brother, Matthew, say. “Let’s go.” “I’m hungry,” her other brother, Mason, insisted. Penny listened to the typical clatter of her dad and two brothers getting shoes, sweatshirts, wallets, keys.

She heard Matthew drop his phone and swear, and her mom snap at him for swearing. “Last call, Penny Lane!” her dad called chipperly. Still. Still as a stone. Maybe the earth could open a giant hole and let her sink into it. Sending her in some kind of time-zone warp back to America, where she belonged.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: dce2b42c25823658
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 2,501,329 bytes (2.385 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 175
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 284.48 minutes
• Total Words: 56,896
• Total Characters: 318,523
• Average Words per Page: 325.12
• Average Characters per Page: 1820.13

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