The next morning Sophia came again and sat by the bed embroidering a beautiful linen pillowslip.
“For Madeleina,” she said, holding it up for my inspection. The centre was untouched, but around its perimeter were tiny flowers in red, blue and green. She resumed her stitching.
“Thank you,” I said to the crown of her head.
She looked up.
“For coming.”
She smiled. “Prego, Dana.” Then she patted my hand.
While Sophia stitched, my thoughts turned to Julian. I wanted to see him, but I was still numbed and weary. I felt that I had changed, but I didn’t know yet in what way.
“Sophia,” I said to the peppered hair of her bent head. She looked up, but this time folded the pillowcase and laid it carefully on the bed. Taking my hand in both of hers she tilted her head to the side waiting for me
