Uberto lifted Aldo’s mask up to the sky. Mina could see a star gazing at her through each eye socket. Then Uberto lowered the mask, and passed it to Jal on his right. Jal nodded at the piece of leather, lifeless, empty, and passed it to Mina. She stroked the smooth cheek of the mask, silently wishing farewell to Aldo. She turned it over and saw the shape of Aldo’s face worn into the lining. She wondered whether there were other masks that had belonged to Aldo, when he was younger. Through the tears that threatened to fall, the image inside the mask wavered, and she imagined she saw Paolo’s face, impressed in the soft leather. The image struck her like a knife in the belly. Could there be a mask, somewhere in the wagons, that had been made for Paolo? She had told no one of her secret quest.
