“Carlo Ian,” he said, introducing himself. “I’m the village doctor. I know the Kravina family well. I was concerned when I saw the police cars.”

The man must have been long past retirement age—a whole decade, perhaps. Teresa shook his hand.

“Superintendent Battaglia,” she said. “I’m handling the Valent case.”

Ian’s expression darkened. His eyes shot to the window, toward the form that still hung outside. A forensic photographer was capturing it from various angles.

“Do you think it was the same man who did this and killed Roberto?” he asked.

Teresa didn’t get a chance to respond.

“Doctor!”

Lucia Kravina ran into the doctor’s arms, and he crouched down to let the child bury her face in the curve of his neck. They stood very close, speaking in whispers, like a pair of best friends trading secrets. Teresa felt relieved. She was glad to know there was someone in that little grown-up’s life with whom she could still act like a child. She heard her sob, and watched him dry her tears and make her smile by pulling a lollipop out of thin air.

Teresa almost felt like she was intruding. But the doctor came to her aid.

“Lucia, this lady is here to find out who did this terrible thing,” he said to the little girl.

The girl studied Teresa, but her arms remained wrapped around the doctor’s neck.

Teresa smiled at her.

“Hello, Lucia. My name is Teresa,” she said.

The girl bit her lip. She seemed unsure whether to answer or flee.

“She’s here to help you,” Ian told her. “Do you trust me?”

The girl nodded.

“Then you can trust her, too. I’ll vouch for her.” He winked.

Lucia allowed herself a smile. She was a pretty little thing, perhaps a bit too thin, but with eyes so black and brilliant that you could almost see stars reflected in them.

The child told them about the bowl of milk she had been finding empty every morning, and about the ghosts that lived in the forest. Doctor Ian began to look concerned. Marini, on the other hand, looked vaguely amused, as if he thought they were wasting their time listening to a little girl’s fantasies.

But as far as Teresa was concerned, she knew exactly what her next question would be.

“Where do you usually see these ghosts, Lucia?”

Without a trace of hesitation, the girl pointed at a spot on the edge of the woods.

“Over there. He hides in the trees and watches me.”

-17-

-17-

AUSTRIA, 1978

A new day was dawning over the School. It was the light of a feeble sun; it brought neither warmth nor comfort. It crept over the stone walls of the little chapel, displacing the shadows. Yet it was shadow itself in all but name.