And you?

With Father, Ester, and Isaac departed, there is nothing left for me in our community.

You will go to the monastery? I asked in joyous relief.

She kissed my lips. From now on, I will stay with you, Rafael.

Chapter

Fifty-Two

Alana answers the door to her hotel room in her bathrobe. Justine is standing on the other side with a tablet computer tucked under her arm. “Morning, sunshine!”

Alana glances at her watch, which reads 6:50 a.m. “Were we supposed to meet now?”

Justine grins. “By this time back home on the farm, we would’ve milked the cows, fed the chickens, and hosed the sheds.”

“Not a lot of livestock around here,” Alana says. “Come in.”

As Justine steps inside, she makes a show of scanning the room. “Not even one stray guy lying about?” she says in mock dismay. “Was sure I’d at least find the boss here.”

Alana ignores her, but, in truth, Byron left her out front of the hotel only five hours before. She has little doubt they would’ve ended up in her bed had both of their phones not exploded with texts and calls after the surveillance photos Sergio sent.

“So who is he?” Justine asks.

For a moment Alana thinks she’s still teasing about her dating life, before realizing that Justine means the man from the surveillance photo. She shakes her head. “Haven’t identified him yet.”

“But you think he’s the one that carried the rats to Naples?” Justine asks.

“Too soon to say.”

“Kind of hope he is. Wouldn’t mind having a word or two with him about cruelty to rats.”

“Not to mention people.”

“Them, too.” Justine raises the tablet computer from under her arm. “I need to show you something.”

They sit down beside each other on the unmade bed. Justine taps the screen of her tablet and the image of a dead rat appears. The animal is curled up on its side and blood is caked around its nose and mouth. “The plague, I assume,” Alana says.

“Hard to slip anything past you NATO folks,” Justine groans. “This ain’t one of those medieval rats, neither. This is your typical run-of-the-mill local black rat.”

Alana leans in closer to get a better look. “In Naples?”

“Yup.” Justine flips through some more photos. In one shot, there are two dead rats lying side by side. “They’ve found at least six more carcasses so far.”

Alana’s unease deepens. “There must be a huge rat population in that Scampìa neighborhood.”

“Kind of like Club Med for rats. Means the plague has found a home among the local rat population. Aside from one dead rat in the park, we haven’t even seen that in Genoa yet.”

“Because the sources—the construction pit and the park—were relatively isolated.”

“Maybe. Either way, once the plague finds a foothold in a rat population like that . . .” Justine spreads her hands and fingers apart, mimicking an explosion.

“So what’s next? Extermination?”

“Nuclear-style! I’ve already spoken to my colleagues. They’re going in en masse. But . . .”