She was almost asleep when he spoke again, his voice the softest of whispers. “I stopped believing in miracles a long time ago. They didn’t seem possible in such a world. But then I met your mother. This war brought me to her, and if that isn’t a miracle I don’t know what is. Sleep well, my darling. Take care of your mamma. And know that I love you both.”

Chapter 22

1 October 1944

Nico had been gone for almost a week, and Nina had grown used to his absence. He would be gone for a long time, she told herself in her rare moments of rest. Only then, when her hands were still, did she worry. Only when she was falling asleep, or waking at dawn, or alone with her thoughts did she worry, but reason always followed, along with the memory of his promises. He would be gone for a long while, he had said, but the war would be over soon, and he would come home to her, and they would both be safe. That he had promised her.

It was Sunday morning, Mass had just ended, and since the day was fine and the sun was shining, nearly everyone was lingering in the piazza to catch up on a week’s worth of news and gossip. Nina had found it difficult to stay awake during the service, for the church had been warm and she hadn’t slept much the night before.

She confessed as much to the other women, most of them Nico’s cousins and second cousins, and all of them mothers several times over.

“It’s practice for when the baby comes,” one now assured her.

“You’ll be up at all hours nursing him,” another agreed.

“Why do you say ‘him’? From the way she’s carrying it’s sure to be a girl.” This was from an aunt, or was she one of the older cousins?

Rosa had vanished, likely gone in search of Carlo, and Nina felt a little lost without her. She knew nothing of the art of discerning a child’s gender from the appearance of the mother’s belly, though she imagined her father would have dismissed such speculation out of hand. She knew nothing of babies either, but Rosa had promised to help, and the girls were eager to care for their new niece or nephew, and Nina was confident she would learn.

She was happy, standing there in the autumn sunshine, surrounded by Nico’s family, until the moment a convoy of vehicles rolled into the piazza along the via Santa Lucia. German kübelwagens, four of them, and in their wake was Zwerger’s Mercedes and its sinister SS pennant.