“We’ll organize and send out a search party.” Marcello says. He’s standing near the window inside Diane’s cottage, his arms crossed, wearing khaki pants and a black shirt that makes him look like an army officer. His shaggy brown hair is down –still wet; the tips dripping tiny droplets of water on his shoulders, indicating he’d just come out of the shower when he got the news of Natalia. He presses a fist to his lips thoughtfully, and then adds; “She couldn’t have gotten far, since she isn’t exactly familiar with the woods around here.”
“And then what?” Nan asks from where she’s seated on a rocking chair near the lit fireplace, her bamboo walking stick resting neatly on her knees. She levels her eyes on me, the bright yellow crocheted scarf around her neck slipping. “If she wanted to be f
