“Elena, thank you for coming,” he said, taking my hands in his. “I know what I put you through this morning was cruel and terrifying, but there was no other way to make you understand the magnitude of this moment.”
We approached the table and the silver woman also stood up, looking at me with a sweet smile and a hint of fear.
“Elena,” Stefano continued, his voice cracking, “this is Beatrice. The woman I thought was gone forever for over fifty years. My older sister.”
Those words hung in the air of the room like a false note suddenly finding its perfect harmony. I stood transfixed, unable to articulate anything, my mind frantically trying to process the mountain of suspicions that had suffocated me until that moment.
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