Rosa was at the range, stirring away at something in a huge iron pot. She must have heard Nina come down the stairs, but she didn’t turn, didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge her in any way. Nico and his father were just outside—their voices seemed close enough to touch—and rather than test her courage with a confrontation, Nina walked past Rosa to the courtyard, her feet following the seam between two rows of tiles as if it were a tightrope.

As she’d hoped, Aldo and Nico were there, sitting on the stools under the olive tree, the dog at their feet.

“I’m sorry I slept for so long.”

“You were tired,” Aldo replied. He stood, offering her his stool, and the dog, who had been fast asleep a second before, jumped to her feet and looked up at both men adoringly.

“What is her name?” Nina asked.

“Selva,” Nico answered. “She’s my father’s dog but she prefers me.”

“True enough,” Aldo said. “She pays me no mind when he’s around.”

“I was just telling my father the story of how we met,” Nico said easily.

She nodded, suddenly nervous. If only they’d agreed upon a story that wasn’t quite so romantic.

“Your family didn’t object to your leaving?”

“I told you, Papà—Nina has no family. That’s why I was so certain she had to come with me. With the way things are? In my place you’d have done the same.”

No family. No family. She’d agreed upon the fiction, but to hear it said so baldly, as if it were the truth . . .

“I expect so,” Aldo admitted, “but your sister. Well. The shock has upset her.”

“I know. And I will speak to her. I will explain.”

“You know she had hoped you’d return to the seminary one day. You know she’d have preferred you never left at all—”

“Yes,” Nico interrupted, his voice rising, “but after Marco was killed there was no choice. I had to come home. And I was happy to do it. You know I was.”

“I do. And Rosa’s sure to come around before long. You know she’s never loved surprises. Remember how she reacted when Marco and Luca enlisted?”

“She’s still angry about that. Never mind that they got themselves killed not a month later.”

“Nico. Enough. Why don’t you visit Father Bernardi? There’s still time before supper.”

“Very well. What do you think, Nina? You aren’t too tired?”

“No, not at all,” she said, and let him pull her to her feet. “It will be nice to see him again.”

“You know him?” Aldo asked. “But I thought—”

Only then did she realize her mistake. “I’m sorry. I meant to say that I was looking forward to meeting him.”