I hesitate. I’ve gotten so used to everything being a secret that it takes me a moment to realize that asking where a restaurant is located is completely normal, especially for an American tourist. I scrutinize his face for the telltale sharp look of a Strategia but find none.

“La Cucina Della Nonna,” I say, and realize my Italian accent isn’t half bad even though I haven’t spoken Italian in a long time.

“Ah,” he says, and points. “Down the street about five blocks on the right-hand side.” And then he adds, “Amazing pasta. Some of the best.”

I give him a big thanks, energized by how seamlessly that went, and walk out of the store. I look from side to side. Within ten blocks there are a Bear apothecary and a restaurant where one of the head Bears is eating. Am I in a Bear neighborhood of sorts?

My phone buzzes and interrupts my thoughts.

Aarya: NOVEMBER? Despite popular belief, patience isn’t my strong suit.

Me: It’s nearby. I’m just going to walk past.

Aarya: Address?

Ash: Address?

Ines: Good luck, November.

Me: I’ll text you what I find.

I walk down the street at a brisk pace, counting off the blocks as I go. I know going alone isn’t the best idea I’ve ever had, especially after what just happened to me with the apothecary. But if my mom’s sister is at that restaurant, I want to at least get a look at her.

When I’m four blocks down, I spot the sign for La Cucina Della Nonna and slow my pace. I’ll just walk past slowly, I tell myself. I’ll just peek in the window. But as I approach, my heart pounds furiously. Will she look like my mom and Aunt Jo? Will I be able to recognize her? What if she sees me? Will she recognize me?

I stop five feet from the restaurant window and take out my phone. I pull up Ash’s number in case I need to make a run for it and hover my thumb over the Call button. But before I can take a step forward, someone grabs my wrist, knocking my phone right out of my hand. I spin, yanking my wrist against the assailant’s thumb to release his grip, and swing with my other arm.

“November,” a familiar voice says just as my fist makes contact with his face.

Matteo takes a quick step backward, holding his hands up.

“Matteo?” I say, completely shocked.

He rubs his jaw. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demands, clearly annoyed.

I stare at him, like I’m not sure if the apothecary’s oil is making me hallucinate. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” I pick my phone up off the sidewalk, slipping it back in my pocket. I look at his jaw where I landed a punch. “Sorry I hit—”