"Hey!" Someone shouts. "You looking for work or just sightseeing?"
I turn. A man in his fifties, weathered face, clipboard in hand. The foreman, probably.
"Work," I say. "If you need someone."
He looks me up and down, assessing. I can see him taking in my build, the way I stand, the scars visible on my hands and forearms.
"You done construction before?"
"Yes." The answer comes automatically. Is it true? I think so. My hands seem to think so.
"Papers?"
This is where it gets tricky. "Lost them. I can work for cash. Day rate."
His eyes narrow. "You in trouble with the law?"
"No. Just... bad luck."
He studies me for another long moment, then shrugs. "We're short-handed. Lost two guys yesterday, went to a better-paying job in Florence." He gestures toward the site. "You can use a hammer? Lift heavy things? Follow directions?"
"Yes."
"Fifty euros for the day. Cash. You work hard, you can come back tomorrow. You slack off, you're done. Clear?"
Fifty euros. Nearly five times what Isabella has left. For one day of work.
"Clear."
"Name?"
I hesitate for just a fraction of a second. "Lupo."
"Last name?"
"Does it matter if I'm working for cash?"
He smirks. "Fair point. I'm Sal. Don't make me regret this." He jerks his head toward the site. "Get a hard hat from the shed and report to Aldo, he's the guy yelling at everyone near the south wall. He'll tell you what to do."
I get the hard hat and find Aldo. He's exactly where Sal said he'd be, yelling at a younger guy who's apparently mixed up an order.
When he sees me, he looks annoyed. "Who are you?"
"New hire. Sal said to report to you."
He sighs. "Fine. You know how to mix concrete?"
"Show me once and I'll do it."
He does. It's simple, physical work, measuring, mixing, hauling. My body knows what to do even if my mind doesn't remember learning it. Within an hour, I've fallen into the rhythm of the site.
And it feels good.
Not the aching in my muscles or the sweat dripping down my back. But the simplicity of it. The straightforward nature of the work. Do this. Carry that. Mix this. Build.
No politics. No violence. No death.
Just honest labor.
