She was used to feeling betrayed by her body and to betraying it herself. She had learned to come to terms with its changing shape, its increasing weight, its downward stretch; with her lined face which no longer caught men’s eyes; with her diabetes and the swings in her blood pressure, the hunger and tiredness that sometimes besieged her from the moment she woke up; with how her legs would start to ache in the middle of a shift, and how her eyesight was growing more blurry every year; and even with the scar that marked her abdomen, reminding her every day of what had been taken away from her.

All of that, she could endure—but this was the ultimate betrayal, and she didn’t have the strength to shoulder its burden on her own.

She had spent the night curled up in the fetal position, yearning for somebody to comfort her, and wishing she could be a daughter once again and summon her mother back. She longed for a hand to caress her swollen face and her hair damp with tears. She asked herself how long it had been since anyone had given her a kiss. She couldn’t even remember.

It was almost dawn now.

The light was changing. Darkness was taking its leave and once again, Teresa had to muster the strength to banish it from inside herself, too. It would have been easier if she’d had a companion beside her. She had never been a romantic, but after a few dozen years spent coping on her own, she was beginning to find the idea of a savior quite appealing.

Her mobile phone vibrated on the bedside table. She had to look at the name on the screen repeatedly before her eyes could focus properly. She lifted herself into a sitting position and cleared her throat to speak.

“You’re not quite the person I had in mind,” she said.

“That’s what you ladies always say, but then you inevitably change your minds.”

At least Marini was quick with a joke.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s about the Valent case. I’ll come and pick you up.”

-28-

-28-

The police station in Travenì was bustling with activity; a suspect had been taken into custody and was waiting to be charged. They had caught him trying to open the front door of the Valent home. He hadn’t known he was being followed. His name was Cristian Lusar and he was one of the three people who had been accused of setting fire to the construction site that Valent used to run.

Teresa realized that of the three suspects, he was also the likeliest match for the killer. The others were a diminutive woman who would never have been able to overpower Valent, and a middle-aged man who suffered from multiple sclerosis.