Rosette was merely minding her own business. In fact, she was doing that quite well, having gone to place an order for more of the ivory paper that her clients found attractive for their invitations, along with a more economical white brand that made for an easier burn for her other clients. She - humming to herself an old showtune she must have heard a decade ago - was certainly not expecting to be stopped.
A thrill of fear ran up her spine as she realized that it was a German soldier who had stopped her, but she was careful not to let it show on her face. Relief flooded her when his badly-accented question was made clear to her.
"The other way from this road," she told him, keeping her voice calm and cool out of sheer force of will. Pointing up the road, her tone was near to chiding. Oh, she was tempting fate again. "Up there for a long while, and then if you turn at the Cafe to the left-side, you'll find it in no time."
Which was good, because that was about as fast as she wanted out of this conversation. She knew objectively that not all German soldiers were bad, but it was quite another thing entirely when they were the ones occupying your home.