{"product_id":"for-freedom-isbn-9780440418313","title":"For Freedom","description":"\u003cb\u003eFrom the Newbery Honor and Schneider Award-winning author of \u003ci\u003eThe War that Saved My Life\u003c\/i\u003e comes \u003ci\u003eFor Freedom, \u003c\/i\u003ethe thrilling true story of one of France's youngest spies during World War II and perfect for fans of \u003ci\u003eCode Name Verity\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Diary of Anne Frank\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \u003c\/i\u003eSuzanne David's everyday life is suddenly shattered in 1940 when a bomb  drops on the main square of her hometown, the city of Cherbourg, France, killing  a pregnant neighbor right in front of her. Until then the war had seemed far away,  not something that would touch her or her teenage friends. Now Suzanne's family is  kicked out onto the street as German soldiers take over their house as a barracks.\u003cbr\u003e     Suzanne clings to the one thing she really loves--singing. Her voice is so amazing  that she is training to become an opera singer. As Suzanne travels around for rehearsals,  cosume fittings, or lessons, she learns more about what the Nazis are doing and about  the people who are \"disappearing.\" Her travels are noticed by someone else, an organizer  of the French Resistance. Soon Suzanne is a secret courier, a spy fighting for France  and risking her own life for freedom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[\u003cb\u003eSTAR\u003c\/b\u003e] \"This taut, engrossing World War II novel instantly immerses readers,...[but] the real focus, however, is the \u003cb\u003eskin-crawling suspense story about one of France's youngest spies.\u003c\/b\u003e Each chapter brings new intrigue and often shocking revelations...resonat[ing] with authenticity, excitement, and heart.\"-\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e, Starred\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[\u003cb\u003eSTAR\u003c\/b\u003e] \"\u003cb\u003eThis suspenseful novel,...based on a true story, moves swiftly into action\u003c\/b\u003e...Filled,     but not laden, with the events of the war, and peppered with French     language and the culture of music, this novel will appeal to readers   who   enjoy history and espionage.\"-\u003ci\u003eSLJ\u003c\/i\u003e, Starred\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e[\u003cb\u003eSTAR\u003c\/b\u003e] \"Based on Bradley’s interviews with the real Suzanne, this is \u003cb\u003ean exciting account\u003c\/b\u003e of a girl’s coming of age in a scary time. The historical context is neatly woven into the story.\"-\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e, Starred\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eThe action will have readers on the edge\u003c\/b\u003e through the tense conclusion, and the epilogue is not to be missed.\"-\u003ci\u003eThe Bulletin\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A \u003cb\u003ehighly compelling\u003c\/b\u003e look at the covert battle for freedom.\"-\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eAn IRA Teachers' Choice\u003cbr\u003eAn ALA Amelia Bloomer Selection\u003cbr\u003eA \u003ci\u003eVOYA\u003c\/i\u003e Top Shelf Fiction Selection\u003cbr\u003eA New York Public Library Book Pick\u003cbr\u003eA Bank Street College Best Book of the Year\u003c\/b\u003e[\u003cb\u003eSTAR\u003c\/b\u003e] \"This taut, engrossing World War II novel instantly immerses readers,...[but] the real focus, however, is the \u003cb\u003eskin-crawling suspense story about one of France's youngest spies.\u003c\/b\u003e Each chapter brings new intrigue and often shocking revelations...resonat[ing] with authenticity, excitement, and heart.\"-\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e, Starred\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[\u003cb\u003eSTAR\u003c\/b\u003e] \"\u003cb\u003eThis suspenseful novel,...based on a true story, moves swiftly into action\u003c\/b\u003e...Filled,      but not laden, with the events of the war, and peppered with French      language and the culture of music, this novel will appeal to  readers   who   enjoy history and espionage.\"-\u003ci\u003eSLJ\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e[\u003cb\u003eSTAR\u003c\/b\u003e] \"Based on Bradley’s interviews with the real Suzanne, this is \u003cb\u003ean exciting account\u003c\/b\u003e of a girl’s coming of age in a scary time. The historical context is neatly woven into the story.\"-\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e, Starred\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eThe action will have readers on the edge\u003c\/b\u003e through the tense conclusion, and the epilogue is not to be missed.\"-\u003ci\u003eThe Bulletin\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A \u003cb\u003ehighly compelling\u003c\/b\u003e look at the covert battle for freedom.\"-\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eAn IRA Teachers' Choice\u003cbr\u003eAn ALA Amelia Bloomer Selection\u003cbr\u003eA \u003ci\u003eVOYA\u003c\/i\u003e Top Shelf Fiction Selection\u003cbr\u003eA New York Public Library Book Pick\u003cbr\u003eA Bank Street College Best Book of the Year\u003c\/b\u003eKimberly Brubaker Bradley is the Newbery Honor and Schneider Award-winning author of several novels, including \u003ci\u003eRuthie's Gift\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eOne-of-a-Kind Mallie\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eWeaver's Daughter\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eHalfway to the Sky\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eFor Freedom: The Story of a French Spy\u003c\/i\u003e. Bradley and her husband have two children and they live on a farm in eastern Tennesse, in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor me the war began on May 29, 1940. I was thirteen years old.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was a Wednesday, the day we studied catechism and had choir practice and then had the afternoon free. Of course, I had to remain after choir to rehearse my solo, but when that was finished I found my friend Yvette. Together we went to Soeur Margritte.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eS’il vous plaît\u003c\/i\u003e, please, Soeur Margritte, may we go down to the beach?” we asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOur convent school was high among the hills of Cherbourg; school was farther from the beach than my own home. But while we were not permitted home except on weekends, we were sometimes permitted to go about town. Yvette and I were good students, well behaved. \u003ci\u003eAlways follow the rules\u003c\/i\u003e, my papa told me, \u003ci\u003eand you will be all right\u003c\/i\u003e. I always did, and I always was.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We will take our homework,” Yvette said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“It’s such a beautiful day,” I said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We will be back before supper,” we chorused.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrance had been at war with Germany for nearly six months, yet there had been so little fighting that it seemed to mean nothing. The German army had spread across Europe, almost unopposed; neither the French nor the British had done much to stop them. There were English soldiers stationed in Cherbourg—I saw them when Maman and I went to the market on Saturdays—but they were quiet and polite and never bothered anyone. I couldn’t imagine them actually fighting. Some days it was hard to believe we were in a real war.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhich is not to say we weren’t paying attention. We listened to the radio and read the newspaper reports with increasing dread. We knew Hitler was coming; we feared that nothing could stop him. Papa and Maman talked in low voices at the dinner table, and sometimes Papa pounded his fist on the table and swore. “That Hitler!” he would say. “That cursed son of Satan!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut I was only thirteen. My brothers, Pierre and Etienne, were fourteen and sixteen, too young to be soldiers; Etienne was lame as well. And I was studying to be a famous opera singer. I loved singing like nothing else. At Christmas I had sung a solo in the church choir, Gounod’s “Ave Maria,” and our director had said I was talented and should pursue a career. So now I had a music tutor, Madame Marcelle; I took special voice lessons twice a week and practiced hard every day.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo it was not that I was not paying attention to the war, but that I never thought the war could hurt me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yes,” Soeur Margritte decided. She was the nicest of the sisters. “It’s a beautiful day, and who knows how many carefree days we have left. You may go. Have a nice time—but do your homework!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe skipped down the cobblestone streets. The wind blowing in from the Channel tousled our skirts, pulled at our hair. I sang an aria from \u003ci\u003eCarmen\u003c\/i\u003e as we drew closer. \u003ci\u003eCarmen\u003c\/i\u003e was my favorite opera. I knew most of the part of Carmen, but I still could not reach some of the high notes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh, \u003ci\u003etais-toi\u003c\/i\u003e,” said Yvette, rolling her eyes at me. “Be quiet. Singing, always singing. I bet you sing in your sleep.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI probably did sing in my sleep. Someday I would sing in Paris. I dreamed of it all the time. “I’ll ask Odette,” I said. Odette was one of my roommates. I hummed a few notes, then began again. “\u003ci\u003eAh! je t’aime, Escamillo, je t’aime, et que je meure si j’ai jamais aimé quelqu’un autant que toi!\u003c\/i\u003e Ah, I love you, Escamillo, I love you, and may I die if I have ever loved anyone as much as you!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYvette grinned. “What a horrible song!” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, flung her arm out dramatically, and began to sing, “\u003ci\u003eSavez-vous planter les choux?\u003c\/i\u003e Do you know how to plant cabbages?” A simple nursery song. Her voice wobbled, up, down, down, up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSinging is a talent. You have it or you don’t.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Come on!” I said, running toward the sea.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe went to the Place Napoléon, the big square near the Gare Maritime, the station where trains could pull right up to the harbor to load and unload the ships. The Church of La Trinité formed part of the square, and from the benches around the edge we could watch the ships in the harbor, the waves curling, and the birds wheeling overhead. People strolled back and forth across the square.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe settled onto a bench in the sun. I opened my history book. History was my favorite subject. Yvette sniffed the air as though it were a flower. “It’s so nice to be outside,” she said, “after being stuck in that stuffy school all day. You’re not going to start with the books already, are you? Let’s talk.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Okay.” I closed my book and looked around. “The harbor’s empty. That’s odd.” Cherbourg had an important harbor; before the war big ships had come often. I had been on the \u003ci\u003eQueen Elizabeth\u003c\/i\u003e once, when she was docked at Cherbourg.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYvette looked too. “Not really,” she said. “It’s such a pretty day. If I had a boat, I’d take it out today too.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eBonjour\u003c\/i\u003e, Yvette,” came a woman’s pleasant voice. “\u003ci\u003eBonjour\u003c\/i\u003e, Suzanne.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eBonjour, madame,\u003c\/i\u003e” we said. Our friend Madame Montagne waved to us as she came nearer. Her little son, Simon, skipped down to the water’s edge and threw rocks into the waves. The Montagnes lived near Yvette’s family, and Madame Montagne was Yvette’s mother’s friend. Since I was Yvette’s best friend, I had known Madame Montagne for years.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Where’s Marie?” I asked. Marie was her daughter, two years old, a beautiful child with wide blue eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“With her grandmother,” Madame Montagne said. She patted her bulging belly happily. She was going to have a baby very soon; we often talked to her about it. Yvette was knitting her a pair of tiny booties. “I have grown too fat and I can’t carry her this far. But Simon wanted to walk down to the beach. It’s such a pretty day.” She looked up. “Is that a plane?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere was a far-off buzzing noise. It did sound like a plane.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eSalut\u003c\/i\u003e, Simon!” Yvette yelled. Simon waved to her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI hummed a scale to myself, D minor, as I found my place in my history book again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe buzzing noise grew louder.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Simon!” called Madame Montagne. “Do not get your shoes wet! Stay out of the water!” She started to walk toward him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuddenly the noise turned into a roar. Planes swarmed overhead, many of them, their engines fast and loud.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI jumped to my feet. My books slid to the ground. Yvette turned toward me, her eyes wide. She said something I didn’t hear.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe beach, the square, exploded.","brand":"Laurel Leaf","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302266163429,"sku":"NP9780440418313","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780440418313.jpg?v=1767727540","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/for-freedom-isbn-9780440418313","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}