Once I reached the top and put the Vespa in park, I took a deep, settling breath. I’d made it back up again. I used the Vespato chill on while the sun rose in the sky, and I ate my fresh oranges.
The world looked bruised at first, until the brilliant fire of the sun started to push the darkness back and shed relief on a world that was as stunning as it was the first time my eyes set on it. I didn’t even bother taking my phone out. A picture could never do this moment justice.
If I came only for the sunrise, I would have been lying to myself. So, as soon as I could see, I retraced my steps to thecastello. The gas lanterns that must have been burning during the night were just going out. And like the time before, the sun adored the cream stone with bronze trimmings. The palms were bowing to it, and the fresh herbs and flowers were perfuming the air around it.
What I hadn’t noticed before, though? A helicopter landing on the other side.
Is that how the ghost got around?
Smiling at the thought, I took my phone out to take another picture of the same window, but I hesitated. What if I looked up and the man, not ghost, was staring back at me? What if he wasn’t a nice…ghost? I kept getting the opposite feeling of that though. And even if I wasn’t as skilled as Eva and Scarlett when it came to reading people, I still felt too much. I would have felt the danger. I felt it radiating off the pages of the threatening letters I received from the supposed killer.
I did feel danger here, too, but it was different…so hard to put into words. Maybe a dangerous entity that used his power for good? Maybe not for the good of the world, but the good of something…maybe what, or who, he loved?
All great things to remember for later when I was writing. But I hadn’t felt the rush of inspiration hit yet.
On the count of three, I forced my eyes to the window.
Damn.
Empty.
Just in case I missed something like last time, I took anotherpicture. And since I was already up here, I was going to sit back on my Vespa and just…be before I headed back down. The citrus stall would be waiting for me. I was looking forward to the next day, my day off. I was going to spend it at the beach.
Claiming my seat on the Vespa, I took a few more pictures, then decided it was time to go. It might be easier going uphill with the two wheeled scooter. I wasn’t sure I could control the speed going down. I looked forward to trying though. After I slipped my phone in my crossbody and set it in the basket with my glass container void of fruit, I started the Vespa and held onto the handles.
My eyes blinked at the new addition to the left bar. A long gold chain with a pendant dangled and swung in the wind. My hand lifted the end of the chain. The pendant was a lion’s face set in gold, and underneath it, a heart made from a ruby. It was beautiful—almost romantic and cruel at the same time, especially when a ray of bright sunshine hit the gem and made it seem like a glob of blood.
I looked around but found no one.
Someone had been here, though. A necklace doesn’t just appear on the handlebar of a Vespa unless someone puts it there. A smile came to my face, and I removed the gold chain and slipped it over my head. “Thank you!” I shouted into the wind, holding the pendant between my fingers. “Er,grazie mille!”
This was going in the book—the ghost had given the only heart he had to the woman outside of the window.
Still stunned, I sat for another few minutes, until I heard it again.
The voice of Rosaria Caffi echoing from thecastello. After making sure the pendant rested over my heart, I stuck my earbuds in my ears and turned the music up. I drowned her out as I sped toward town, feeling exhilarated and full of ideas.
Still in a haze from my time atop the hill, I kept zoning in and out during my shift at the citrus stand, my fingers always around the pendant. It had already become a part of me. I’d developed anxiety toward it. Like I was too scared not to touch it every so often to make sure it was still there.
That it was real.
It felt like a real heart against mine, and I had to protect it somehow.
Digging in my bag, pulling out the notebook I had purchased and what I was calling my “lucky” pen (found in the street in town), I scribbled that down for the book.
The lion’s heart seemed to pulse, and in that moment, she knew: his life was in the palm of her hand. She slipped the extension of him over her head, vowing to protect his heart for eternity. Wherever his heart would go, hers would follow, and wherever her heart would go, so would his. In this, they were entwined eternally.
That was so romantic, I could have sworn the paper was glowing, like it was infused with candlelight, and the smell of roses drifted off the page. In reality, it was being perfumed by the brute force of the sun beating down on the paper, and the peppermint candy I had started keeping in my purse—just like bananas do to cardboard or chips if they’re kept too close together.
That balance thing again.
I had to remind myself there was a line between fiction and reality. I wanted the romance to sweep me away, but not consume me to the point that it was all I saw. There would be hard times in this story. That was what made life…life, and believable. But no matter what, the couple would persevere and come out on the other side, her sending the air back in his lungs, the beats back in his heart, because he had become her life.
Sighing, I blinked, bringing the world back into focus. The citrus stall was empty much earlier than usual, and I hadn’t really noticed it. I was entrapped in my mind with my sidekick Pisolino next to me. He sat on the bench in the shade, thumping his tail, his green eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun. His coatlooked like black velvet, except for the missing patches of hair and what I hadn’t noticed before—he took a few licks in the fight. I made a mental note to stop by the medical building and ask them if they had anything for cat injuries. I didn’t think he’d swipe at me if I tried to apply something to them, but…
I glanced at him.
He was a wild boy, even if he gave me the impression that I was somehow domesticating him.
