As Rome diminished beneath the plane’s wings, I felt a small sense of relief. It was the age, the beauty and the passion of that city that had affected me, I decided. My emotions had heightened, I reasoned, manifesting in fanciful visions of the woman. A medical conference would restore my rationality and I would see things more objectively, I assured myself.
I settled back into the seat, wondering what my sister was doing. Was she looking out at Sophia’s garden and the herbs that she knew better by their botanical names? Would she glance towards the sky to look for me, or had Carlo fixed his position before her?
I closed my eyes and drifted into a soft daydream. Sophia’s face met mine. She was smiling, though her warm, flecked eyes seemed to be appealing to me to do something, to see so
