The next morning the children were up at dawn, and their delight as they emptied their stockings and discovered their modest gifts would, Nina decided, long remain one of her happiest memories. Carlo was less enthusiastic when he was told to put down his toy airplane and ready himself for Mass, but Nico calmed him with promises of Pippo bomber chases in the courtyard afterward.

That evening they lingered over the table after supper was done, too full to even think about sampling the pinza cake again, and the girls took turns singing for everyone, and Nico entertained Carlo with a lengthy and dramatic account of la Befana’s visit from the Magi so long ago.

And then it was time to walk into the village for the lighting of the riel, the enormous bonfire that would act as a beacon for la Befana when she returned. They arrived just as everyone was gathering in the piazza, and though the pile of brush and firewood was indeed impressive, it was not, as Carlo had insisted earlier, quite as tall as the campanile.

He now ran off with his schoolmates, promising yet again to be good, and of course he would stay well away from the bonfire, and yes, yes, he would stay in the piazza and come willingly when he was called. Aldo, too, went to join his friends, though only to stand outside the osteria.

To begin the festivities, Father Bernardi offered a blessing, but his voice was swallowed up by the noise of the crowd. A trio of men came forward, torches in hand, and everyone in the piazza held their breath until the flames caught, flickering weakly at first, then growing in strength before they swept to the top of the bonfire.

Around them people were laughing and cheering, and Rosa and the girls were singing about the arrival of la Befana, but Nico was unmoved, unsmiling, his manner as alert and restless as Selva when she was set to guard the house.

“What is it?” Nina asked.

“I’m looking for Carlo. I don’t want to lose him in the crowd.”

But it was more than that, for Carlo was easy to find—he had only just run past them, and the bonfire itself was well contained.

Only then did she notice them. Four German soldiers at the corner of the piazza, just outside the carabinieri station. They were laughing, at ease, their rifles slung over their shoulders. They didn’t seem to care that everyone in the village was breaking the curfew.

She took Nico’s arm in hers, pulling him closer, and then stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “There is nothing to fear tonight. They’re only watching and trying to forget about the war. Just as we are doing.”