Gianna
2 days later
Black. Everywhere I looked, it was black suits, veils, coats heavy against the late afternoon chill. Even the sky seemed to dim itself for the occasion, clouds swallowing what little light dared to break through. The Baldocchi burial grounds seemed regal. They were gated, walled in with old stone and iron, as private and guarded as possible. Every generation had a place here.
Today, it was Vittoria’s turn.
A massive portrait rested on an easel near the casket—Vittoria, poised and elegant as she always has been. White lilies framed the photograph, their scent almost suffocating in the cold air.
People kept arriving. More than I’d expected. Our family was already there. Leonardo stood at the edge, his usual bravado stripped away. Amara clutched a handkerchief, her fa
