I tried to digest what she meant by “take care of this.”

She saw my confused look. “You know. Terminate. Get rid of the baby while it is still the size of a pea. I know it’s against the law, but it’s not really a baby yet, just a collection of tissue, so I’m told. You have a little procedure, and you walk out free and happy again.”

I stared at her. For one awful moment, it seemed like a good idea. Go to a doctor. Have a little procedure and walk out free and happy again. But then I knew instantly that I couldn’t do it. Thou shalt not kill. A defenceless baby, who has done no wrong. Doesn’t he have the right to live? Maybe if I told Leo, he’d be able to find a happy home for the child, the way he did the kittens. As I considered this, it did seem like an acceptable solution. Now all I had to do was to summon the courage to tell him.

I walked past the Palazzo Rossi and stared up at that imposing front entrance. I certainly wouldn’t have the nerve to knock on that door and ask to speak to him. It would be a foolish thing to do. The only solution would be to write him a letter. I had just decided to do this when the front door opened and Bianca came out. Today she was wearing a white tennis dress, her black hair tied up in a white ribbon, and she carried a bag with a racket handle sticking out of it. Somebody inside the house must have said something to her, because she looked back and gave some sort of quip before she tossed her head, laughed and walked on. She had a satisfied little smile on her lips as she walked right past me as if I didn’t exist.

I went home and wrote the letter. I need to see you, I said. Can you meet me at noon at the accademia one day soon?

That seemed like a harmless place to bump into a friend without causing talk. Better than at my landlady’s house. Word that Leonardo Da Rossi visited an unmarried woman there would circulate quickly. Frankly, I was dreading the encounter. I tried the words I wanted to use in Italian and just couldn’t say them. I prayed that Leo would understand what “pregnant” was in English. Perhaps if we were speaking in a foreign tongue, we wouldn’t readily be overheard.

I dropped the letter into the yellow postbox and waited, feeling sick and jittery about what might happen when we met.

September 22

I didn’t have to wait long!