19
Rome, 1952
Blinded by tears, Ruby pawed through her purse to find the lire to pay the taxi driver. “Grazie,” she mumbled, fumbling at the door handle.
The driver hurried to open the door and help her, but she shrugged him off. She didn’t want anyone’s help; she only wanted to be left alone. Still in shock over the argument between Niccolò and his father just minutes ago, she staggered through the darkening night toward the small inn where she was staying. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks, and she angrily brushed them away.
The pensione owner, a kind middle-aged woman who’d helped her settle into Rome, looked up from her desk at her in alarm. “Mio Dio. Signorina Raines, stai bene?”
Searching for words, Ruby sliced her hands through the air. “Niccolò, finito.”
The woman’s face cru
