CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Cristiano’s train pulled into the station at Florence. It had been a long, long journey, and his unhappiness had not reduced even slightly. Every time he saw Keira’s name flash up on his cell phone, the pain had been ignited anew.
He stepped off the train, his limbs stiff and muscles aching. It was warmer here than Paris, and there was no rain for the first time in days.
Cristiano finished the final leg of his journey on foot, climbing the hillsides up to his parents villa. He opened the door and went inside.
“Is that him?” he heard his mother’s voice say from a distance.
It felt strange to hear his own language again. Comforting. Soothing, even.
A face appeared around the wall partition that separated the corridor and living space. It was Pippa, the younger sister
