They walked past the church, past the flanking stone wall where Nico had so nearly died, the ground beneath still stained, revoltingly, with splashes of dried blood. They came around the bend in the road. Nico held out his right hand to Nina, his left to Stella, and the three of them broke into a run.

SELVA WAS THE first to realize they were home. The dog burst from the stables, barking so loudly that Nina was tempted to plug her ears, and then the rest of the family was crowding about them.

“We’ve been waiting and waiting,” Rosa sobbed. “The postcards from the Red Cross came so long ago. Did neither of you receive my letters?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter now. Hush, Rosa,” Nico crooned, gathering his sister in his arms. “Hush. We’re home. We’re safe.”

“Who is this lovely young lady?” Aldo asked, noticing Stella; the girl had halted a few meters from the rest of them, her expression uncertain and a little wistful.

Nina now drew Stella forward, one arm around her shoulders. “This is Stella Donati. She grew up in Livorno, but she’s going to live with us now. She saved me time and again when we were . . .”

She couldn’t bring herself to talk of where they had been. Not with the children so happy and Rosa and Aldo still so anxious.

“When they were away,” Nico said. “But now we’re home, and we’re desperate to see Lucia. Where is she?”

“Asleep in her crib. It’s in your room.”

They rushed up the stairs, forgetting to be quiet, and opened the door to their room. Lucia was awake, sitting up in her crib, her eyes widening at the sight of the strangers.

Nico was, predictably, smitten. “Oh, my darling. My darling girl. You are so lovely. And you have your mamma’s hair.”

“Go on,” Nina encouraged him. “Pick her up.”

He was nervous, his hands trembling, but he shouldn’t have been; it was clear that he knew how to hold a baby. Lucia stared up at him, her eyes round, and after a long moment her little hand reached out to tap his nose.

“I can’t believe it,” Rosa said from the doorway. “Normally she’s shy around strangers. I mean . . . I mean new people. New faces. Of course you aren’t strangers to her.”

As soon as Lucia saw Rosa, though, the spell was broken. Her little mouth bent into a pout, and then a frown, and Nico, his smile fading, handed his daughter back to Rosa.

“Don’t worry. It won’t take long for her to recognize you both. And perhaps she already has an idea of who you are? I’ve been telling her about you every day.