More than ten hours later, the sunlight of Florence fell across my face as I stepped out of the airport. I squinted against the brightness.
The air smelled faintly of coffee and leather, and voices speaking rapid Italian drifted through the crowd around me.
Standing outside the terminal, I took a deep breath. The Tuscan air filled my lungs, carrying a trace of olive trees and something bittersweet.
My phone rang. It was my friend from college, Claire Stone.
"Did you make it?"
"I did."
"I checked out a place for you. It's about a fifteen-minute walk from the academy. The landlady is a sweet senior."
"Thank you."
She paused. "Delia, have you really thought this through?"
"Yeah."
"No second thoughts?"
I looked up at the impossibly blue sky overhead. "No second thoughts."
After han
