No doubt Peter and Gloria were already aware she’d gone AWOL, and she’d have to confront them, too, at some point, but she’d wait till she was better settled here first.

She got a glass of water from the kitchen and ventured around the common areas of the house she hadn’t yet had a chance to explore properly.

According to Annie, there were four bedrooms in the villa, three of which were currently occupied by herself and Colette, with Annie in the single room and the older German couple they’d met briefly last night (though Kim couldn’t remember much of their conversation) in another.

That parlor-type room off the kitchen in the back which had been her haven that morning was so dark and dreary that it really should be knocked through so as to open out the tiny kitchen and let in some more natural light.

Though perhaps there was some advantage to that; the absence of direct sunlight and tiny windows would at least keep the place cooler in summer. With no air-conditioning in the place, that was definitely needed.

Feeling around for a light switch, Kim couldn’t find anything and proceeded further along the wall before stumbling into something. Her shin knocked hard against the side of a piece of clunky wooden furniture and she yelped as pain shot up to her knee.

She kicked at it. “Goddamn wreck,” she grumbled, before a thudding sound got her attention.

Creepy...

The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she was about to retreat from the room when she located a small lamp atop the dresser and switched it on.

Yup, this room was indeed long past its prime, with worn interiors and a shabby sofa that looked like it might convert to a foldout bed, which technically made it another bedroom, though she couldn’t imagine who would pay to actually sleep in it.

Ugh. Backpackers, probably, or travelers on a budget—like Kim was now. She gulped, reminding herself that she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. That would take some getting used to.

But she was pretty sure she could handle it; prove to her folks and herself that she didn’t need their money to get by in life.

The windows were open to let out some of the day’s heat, and tonight there was a welcome breeze. But other than that there was little else of interest in the room.

Kim reached to turn off the lamp and head upstairs to bed, when something sticking out beneath the dresser she’d knocked into caught her eye.

She kneeled down and fished it out. It was some kind of book. A journal, with some handwriting inside. Beautiful cursive script—a lot of it in Italian.

She flipped through a few more pages, recognizing some words also written in English. Looked like poetry... Actually, no—they were just stand-alone sentences.