playing in the trees, and thinking. Only after a while did she realize that she still had Aesop’s Fables in her hand. She ran her thumb quickly through the pages, lost in thought and humming the tune to “My Death.”
Finally she went back to her room and put the book in the top drawer of her bedside table. Maybe she’d read some of it before going to sleep.
She and Alessandro had exchanged numbers in the graveyard, and his was the first that she stored in the tacky gold cell phone. Her old SIM card didn’t fit it, so her address book was as empty as the menu in her iPod. Alessandro and the mysterious song had replaced the normal details of her old life, and curiously enough it didn’t feel wrong.
When she was closing the window, she noticed movement outside among the trees to the east of the house. Someone was hurrying out of the shadows of the chestnut trees and approaching the palazzo.
A moment later she saw it was Zoe. Her sister wasn’t wearing the black suit she’d worn that afternoon, but had changed into jeans and a T-shirt. She had tied her blond hair back in a ponytail. From above, she looked almost like the old Zoe, much more natural than the sister who had met Rosa and had been at the funeral.
Maybe she’d just been out for a walk. Or she had something to hide. A boyfriend, thought Rosa, amused. Someone Florinda would disapprove of. From an enemy clan.
Zoe quickly crossed the strip of dried-up grass. She was holding some kind of flat package or bundle close to her as she disappeared from Rosa’s view behind the greenhouse. There was a greenish glow inside the building.
Slowly, Rosa withdrew into her room. Somewhere in the darkness a door opened and closed again. Then there was nothing to hear but the chirping of the cicadas.
She briefly wondered whether to wait for Zoe outside her room. But it was none of her business who her sister might be going out with—or why Zoe was doing whatever else she had to do out there. Rosa wanted to be left alone herself, so it was only fair to allow her sister her own privacy.
For a couple of minutes she weighed the cell phone in her hand, running her fingertip thoughtfully over the tiny rhinestones set in the keys.
She opened the menu and called the only number in her address book.
FUNDLING AND SARCASMO
R OSA STOPPED AT THE TOP of the slope and looked down toward the road. The morning sun was still low behind the hills at her back, but it had already turned the sky blue and was pouring a soft, silvery brightness over the landscape. Even the gnarled olive trees seemed to shine, with dew glittering on every leaf.
The car she was waiting for wasn’t one of the showy limousines in which the clans had driven to the baron’s funeral. A small Mercedes A-Class pulled up, metallic blue, three doors.
Fundling got out and stood in the open doorway, leaning on the car roof with his arms crossed and his chin propped on them. Looking across the car, he saw her coming and raised his head.
A black dog was standing on the backseat, pressing his wet nose to the glass and wagging his tail hesitantly, but he didn’t bark.
Rosa looked around for the guards once more, but again saw no one among the trees. She ran down the slope. She was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans, and the metal-studded boots. There was a letter opener from Florinda’s desk in her shoulder bag. Just to be on the safe side.
Fundling came quickly around the car and opened the passenger door for her. There wasn’t another vehicle to be seen for miles around. Nothing but two lizards crossing to the other side of the road.
“Good morning,” she said.
He avoided her eyes, murmured a greeting, and closed the door behind her. He put the bag with her swimsuit in the trunk.
The black dog was wagging his tail harder, but he didn’t come any closer until she turned and held out her hand to pat his head. He enthusiastically licked her fingers and let her tickle his throat.
“What’s his name?” she asked
Finally she went back to her room and put the book in the top drawer of her bedside table. Maybe she’d read some of it before going to sleep.
She and Alessandro had exchanged numbers in the graveyard, and his was the first that she stored in the tacky gold cell phone. Her old SIM card didn’t fit it, so her address book was as empty as the menu in her iPod. Alessandro and the mysterious song had replaced the normal details of her old life, and curiously enough it didn’t feel wrong.
When she was closing the window, she noticed movement outside among the trees to the east of the house. Someone was hurrying out of the shadows of the chestnut trees and approaching the palazzo.
A moment later she saw it was Zoe. Her sister wasn’t wearing the black suit she’d worn that afternoon, but had changed into jeans and a T-shirt. She had tied her blond hair back in a ponytail. From above, she looked almost like the old Zoe, much more natural than the sister who had met Rosa and had been at the funeral.
Maybe she’d just been out for a walk. Or she had something to hide. A boyfriend, thought Rosa, amused. Someone Florinda would disapprove of. From an enemy clan.
Zoe quickly crossed the strip of dried-up grass. She was holding some kind of flat package or bundle close to her as she disappeared from Rosa’s view behind the greenhouse. There was a greenish glow inside the building.
Slowly, Rosa withdrew into her room. Somewhere in the darkness a door opened and closed again. Then there was nothing to hear but the chirping of the cicadas.
She briefly wondered whether to wait for Zoe outside her room. But it was none of her business who her sister might be going out with—or why Zoe was doing whatever else she had to do out there. Rosa wanted to be left alone herself, so it was only fair to allow her sister her own privacy.
For a couple of minutes she weighed the cell phone in her hand, running her fingertip thoughtfully over the tiny rhinestones set in the keys.
She opened the menu and called the only number in her address book.
FUNDLING AND SARCASMO
R OSA STOPPED AT THE TOP of the slope and looked down toward the road. The morning sun was still low behind the hills at her back, but it had already turned the sky blue and was pouring a soft, silvery brightness over the landscape. Even the gnarled olive trees seemed to shine, with dew glittering on every leaf.
The car she was waiting for wasn’t one of the showy limousines in which the clans had driven to the baron’s funeral. A small Mercedes A-Class pulled up, metallic blue, three doors.
Fundling got out and stood in the open doorway, leaning on the car roof with his arms crossed and his chin propped on them. Looking across the car, he saw her coming and raised his head.
A black dog was standing on the backseat, pressing his wet nose to the glass and wagging his tail hesitantly, but he didn’t bark.
Rosa looked around for the guards once more, but again saw no one among the trees. She ran down the slope. She was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans, and the metal-studded boots. There was a letter opener from Florinda’s desk in her shoulder bag. Just to be on the safe side.
Fundling came quickly around the car and opened the passenger door for her. There wasn’t another vehicle to be seen for miles around. Nothing but two lizards crossing to the other side of the road.
“Good morning,” she said.
He avoided her eyes, murmured a greeting, and closed the door behind her. He put the bag with her swimsuit in the trunk.
The black dog was wagging his tail harder, but he didn’t come any closer until she turned and held out her hand to pat his head. He enthusiastically licked her fingers and let her tickle his throat.
“What’s his name?” she asked
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