Chapter 51
Hanna
Elina screeches to a halt, and two massive stone pots with tall oleander bushes block our path. "We can't go any farther; the rest of the way you'll have to walk," she says.
"There's a no-entry zone in front of the Palazzo," Alessia confirms, nodding vigorously.
Camilla reaches for the door handle. "What time is it?"
"You have ten minutes left," Elina replies, her blond mane swirling around. Her hand is on mine, and I look into her concerned eyes. "Are you okay?"
I'm not sure. "It feels a bit strange," I nervously reply. "But the colors are real. No bright lights, just a slight headache."
"Tinnitus? Distorted taste? Dizziness?" She squints, as if trying to better assess my condition.
I shake my head in response.
"Okay. I'll catch up once I find a parking spot." She quickly turns to Camilla and Alessia. "Take good care of her, alright?" she asks the sisters, then nods encouragingly at me. "You've got this, Hanna."
The door next to me is flung open from the outside. Alessia's curly head appears in my field of vision. "Ready?" she asks breathlessly.
"Ready," I confirm, though the excitement already gives me a queasy stomach. I leave the car and weave through the crowds of tourists in the pedestrian zone, with one of Vico's amazing sisters on each side, until we reach the vast paved square.
Alessia points toward a square building with stone facade that reminds me of a castle. "It's over there, ahead."
We head toward the entrance with the stone steps, guarded by life-sized figures. Only a few minutes later, we rush into the building. A courtyard with arched arcades and a cheerfully splashing fountain appears before us. The columns on the sides are adorned with ornaments and exude a dignified calmness despite the many tourists.
"Room 12.a, right?" Alessia hurries to the information board and frantically looks for the way. Then she waves us over. "This way."
I don't dare to ask for the time, but my intuition tells me my ten minutes are nearly up.
And that's exactly the case. When we reach the first floor, the door to room 12.a is already open. I stop as I arrive at the doorway.
Breathing heavily, I peek into the room. It only takes a split second for my excitement to turn into fear.
This is not just a simple project presentation in front of two or three officials, as I thought. No.
In this venerable room, there are more rows of spectators than I can count, and they are filled to the brim. At the front, on a small stage, tables are set up where the panel sits. Four men and five women look at me expectantly. Next to them is a podium with a laptop.
A young man with round glasses fixes his gaze on me, stands up from his chair, and buttons his jacket. "Signora Olivetta?"
My throat tightens.
"Si," Camilla suddenly appears behind me, nudging me into the room and giving me a gentle push toward the stage.
That's all it takes to make me realize: Until now, I had many helpers. But for the last stretch of the journey, I must walk alone.
Despite the unease crawling incessantly within me, I straighten my shoulders and take a deep breath. Then on shaky legs, I stumble forward to the podium. Once there, I place the funding application in front of me and grip the table firmly, seeking at least a bit of support.
Showing Vico what's in my mind was one thing. Explaining to Florian that it's no longer just about pleasing him but also myself was another.
But this, this is bigger.
Much bigger.
I let my gaze sweep over the rows of spectators and then on to the panel. The lady with the short blond haircut looks kindly at me, but she impatiently taps her pen on the table at the same time. The man with bushy eyebrows beside her appears skeptical. With growing panic, I scrutinize the other jurors.
Suddenly, I feel like that time in school when I stood on stage, and the presentation of my visions turned into a disaster. I feel the shame like a heavy weight on my chest.
