The military base at Porto Vento was a landscape of concrete and sharp angles, a stark contrast to the cobblestones and warm light of the Caffè Aurora. Giulia stood in the darkened office of Commander Moretti, watching the town through a high-powered telescope. From here, Porto Vento looked like a toy village, beautiful and fragile.
But down there, a parasite was moving through her life.
"She’s at the register," Giulia whispered, her forehead pressed against the cold lens.
Through the telescope, she could see the Aurora’s front window. Lucia—or the woman the town now believed was Giulia—was moving behind the bar with a terrifying, fluid grace. She was wearing Giulia’s favorite sweater, the one with the frayed sleeve she’d been meaning to fix. She was laughing at a joke made by Old Man P
