Se connecterVilla Isabella, Sabine MountainsTen Years LaterAutumn painted the mountains red and gold.Elena was in the garden, pruning the roses that were now blooming beside the graves of Bruno and Leo, the Labrador who had been Matteo's faithful companion for a decade. The dog had died of old age, surrounded by those who loved him, like Bruno before him.Dante approached with two cups of tea. His pace was slower now, his gray hair more visible, but his eyes were still the same."What are you thinking about?""That time passes too quickly.""But also that we lived well."Elena smiled. "Yes. That too."They sat together on the stone bench, where they had shared so many silences and words.Matteo, now a thirty-year-old man, lived in Rome with his wife and their young daughter, whom they had named Sofia. She came on weekends, filling the village with laughter and running.Little five-year-old Sofia chased a butterfly while her mother watched from the terrace.Elena watched her, her heart full.Li
Villa Isabella, Montes SabinosFive Years LaterAutumn had returned to the mountains.Elena was in the garden, watching Matteo play with Leo, the Labrador who had arrived to fill the void left by Bruno. The dog ran tirelessly after a ball as the sun set behind the cypress trees.Dante approached with two cups of tea.What are you thinking about?About Bruno. About how quickly time passes.Yes. But also about how much we've experienced.Elena smiled. Yes. That too.They sat together on the stone bench, where they had shared so many silences and words.Matteo approached, no longer with the boundless energy of a child, but with the calm gait of a young man in his twenties.Aunt Elena, may I ask you a question?Of course.Do you think all this will ever end? The pain, the sadness, the memory?Elena looked at him for a long time.No, darling. It never truly ends. But you learn to live with it. And one day, without knowing how, you realize you can be happy. Even if it hurts.Matteo nodded.
Villa Isabella, Montes SabinosTwo years after Carla's weddingTime had passed, as always, without asking permission.Elena was in the library, organizing the documents Carla had left behind after moving. The house was quieter now. Carla's children came over on weekends, filling the place with laughter and running around. Valentina had married a baker from the village and lived a few kilometers away. Antonio and Andrea still argued about soccer on the terrace.Matteo was no longer a child. He was fifteen, his voice changed, his gaze serious, like someone who had seen too much. He spent his afternoons reading or walking with a new dog, a young Labrador named Leo who had come to fill the void left by Bruno.Dante had aged, but his eyes remained the same. Elena sometimes saw him gazing at the horizon, as if waiting for something. Or someone."What are you thinking about?" she asked him one afternoon.Because peace is fragile.Do you think someone will come and break it?I don't know. But
Villa Isabella, Sabine MountainsOne year after Marco's returnSpring had returned to the mountains.Elena was in the garden, planting new roses next to those that had already bloomed. The garden, once a battlefield, was now a haven of peace. Bruno, now old, slept in its shade. Matteo, no longer a child, read a book on the terrace.Dante appeared with two coffees.What are you thinking about?About how far we've come.And does that scare you?No. It gives me peace.Dante smiled. He sat down beside her.Do you know that today is the anniversary of Sofia's death?Elena nodded.I know. That's why I'm here. Planting roses for her.Do you want to go to the cemetery?Later. With my mother. With my father.Is Marco going?Yes. For the first time.Dante took her hand.That's a step.It is.The CemeteryThe afternoon was sunny, with a gentle breeze coming off the sea.Giulia walked arm in arm with Marco, with Elena and Dante behind them. Matteo carried a bouquet of red roses. Bruno, though old
Villa Isabella, Sabine MountainsSix months after Riccardo's captureWinter had painted the mountains white.Elena was in the library, reviewing Sofia's documents once more. She wasn't looking for anything in particular. She just needed to feel her close, in those long, silent afternoons where the past weighed more heavily than the present.Dante came in with two cups of tea.Thinking?Always.About what?About my father. About whether he'll ever come back.Do you want him to come back?I don't know. But my mother does. And that's enough.Dante sat down beside her.Love is sometimes stronger than resentment.I know. But it hurts.It always hurts.Bruno came closer and rested his head in her lap. Outside, the snow continued to fall.The CallThat night, Elena's phone rang.It was a number I didn't recognize.Elena?The voice was weak, tired, but unmistakable.Dad?Yes. I'm in Rome. I need to see you.What happened?I can't tell you over the phone. But it's important. Can I come to the
Villa Isabella, Montes SabinosThree months after Marco's departureSummer had arrived in full force.Elena was in the garden, pruning the red roses that were now blooming where once there had only been thorns. Life went on, as always, although the wounds still ached. Marco hadn't returned. He hadn't called. He hadn't written.Giulia missed him, though she didn't say so. Elena saw it in her lost gaze, in the afternoons she spent staring at the dirt road, waiting for a car that never came.Dante approached with two lemonades.What are you thinking about?About my father. About whether he'll ever come back.Do you want him to come back?I don't know. Sometimes yes. Sometimes no.It could be both.Elena smiled. You told me that once.And I still think so.Bruno came closer and rested his head in Elena's lap. Matteo was chasing a kite while Roberto taught him new tricks.Life, at last, was just that: life.The LetterThat afternoon, Carla brought the mail.Among the bills and magazines, a







