“Nothing happened with the Germans? With the police?”

“Yes—no. I mean, nothing happened to me. It’s what I saw.” He began to sob again, softly, brokenly. “Oh, Papà . . . I wish I hadn’t gone there today.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“It was the partisans. The ones from Monte Grappa.”

A hand of ice took hold of Nina’s throat and began to squeeze. She pulled out a chair, its legs stuttering against the tile, and fell into it.

“There were thirty of them at least. The partisans. And I . . . I knew two of them. They were the same age as Matteo. They’d been at school with us here.” He wiped at his face with his sleeve. “The Germans brought them in on a truck.”

“Where were they? Where were you?”

“On the viale by the city walls. The Germans were blocking the roads. They wouldn’t let any of us leave.”

“So they brought the partisans in?” Aldo prompted.

“Yes, and the Germans put hoods over their heads, and signs around their necks that said ‘bandit,’ and then they . . . they hanged them, one after the other, from the trees along the road. But the trees are hardly taller than me, and their feet were dragging on the ground. It took them so long to die. And one of them, his mother was there, and she screamed and screamed, and she wouldn’t stop. One of the German soldiers came over and said he would slit her throat if she didn’t shut up. I don’t think her boy was even dead, but they had to drag her away. The whole time she fought them, and the look in her eyes was awful. It was . . . it was . . .”

“Oh, my son. My Paolo. I am so sorry you had to see this.”

“I didn’t want to watch, but the Germans wouldn’t let any of us leave. They made us stay there and watch.”

“You are safe now,” Aldo promised. “Safe with us.”

“I’m not, Papà. None of us will be safe until the Germans are gone. As soon as I’m old enough I want to help Nico.”

“That’s very brave of you, but we had better wait until your brother is home again. We’ll talk about it then.”

Rosa brought him some grappa, only a scant mouthful, and he drank it down without flinching. He wiped his eyes, handed her the empty glass, and went back outside. The boy he’d been that morning was gone, and in his place was a man.

SHE WOKE TO the gentle touch of a hand at her brow, smoothing back her hair, one soft caress after another. Just as her father had done when she was little.

“I’m home.”

She opened her eyes to Nico, his dear face just visible by the light of the moon. Thank goodness she hadn’t closed the shutters.