Chapter 2

Early the next morning, Luca used his spare key to unlock the iron door to the basement.

A foul stench of mold and medicine rolled out. The woman from next door took one look inside and stumbled back, covering her mouth with one hand.

She knew that stench all too well. Her own mother had died the same way.

"Something's happened! Somebody get help!" she shouted.

I lay beside the bed, my face ashen, my lips cracked and peeling.

On the nightstand sat half a glass of cold water, and beside it was a bottle of painkillers with most of the pills gone.

When Luca saw the diagnosis report in my hand, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor.

"Oh God… I should have forced the door open yesterday."

…

While the commotion echoed through the narrow alleys of Palarmo's old quarter, Federico sat at the dining table in his manor, taking his time over a plate of fried eggs.

Julia handed him a cup of coffee, her fingertips brushing lightly over the back of his hand.

"Sounds like quite a crowd is gathering over by the basement," she said. "I wonder what's going on."

Federico frowned. "Is she still making a scene?"

A maid rushed in, her face pale as a sheet. "Mr. Moretti, everyone out there is saying someone died in the basement."

Federico dropped his fork, the metal clattering against the plate.

The color drained from Julia's face. "Someone died?"

Federico shot to his feet, his chair legs screeching across the stone floor. "Sera, you'd better not be taking this too far."

By the time he reached the basement, a large crowd had already gathered outside the door.

Luca spotted him and shouted, "That's him! He's the dead woman's husband!"

Federico stopped in his tracks. Then he laughed. "She put you all up to this?"

He stepped forward and raised his voice toward the doorway. "Sera, come on out. Enough with the tantrum. Fine, you win. I'm back."

Only silence answered him.

Luca blocked his way. "Mr. Moretti, you need to stay calm."

Federico shoved his arm aside. "I'm her husband! You think I don't know what she's like? She's just throwing a fit to force my hand—"

His words died in his throat as Luca pulled back the white sheet, revealing my face.

For one long second, he looked as if an invisible hand had closed around his throat. Every word he'd been about to say lodged in his chest.

One of the neighbors handed him the diagnosis report. "Your wife had a malignant tumor. It was already advanced."

Federico stared at the paper, his knuckles turning white as he gripped it. "That's not possible… Just yesterday… she asked me what'd happen if she really died. I thought she was just making a scene. How could she actually be dead?"

Luca trembled with rage. "She started coughing up blood last month. I told her to go to the hospital, but she said she didn't have any extra money. She said you were already working three jobs and had it hard enough. She couldn't be a burden to you."

The woman from next door had tears in her eyes too.

"Every night when she came home, she had to steady herself against the wall," she said, her voice thick with a Palarmo accent. "She'd gotten so thin it broke my heart. I made her a bowl of pasta once, and she still forced two aureos into my hand for it."

She rounded on Federico, glaring at him. "You're a grown man, and you had no idea your wife was this sick? Are you blind?"

Federico's lips quivered. His voice sounded strained, as if every word had to be forced through his throat. "She never told me. I really didn't know—"

"You didn't know?" Luca sneered. "I called you yesterday, and you told me she was faking! I said I'd call the police, and you stopped me! Now she's dead. You're her husband, but you're standing here telling us you didn't know?"

Julia arrived in her heels, which clicked against the floor with every step.

She stopped in the doorway and covered her nose before speaking softly. "Federico, the smell in here is terrible…"

Federico slowly turned his head to look at her.

Julia's eyes instantly filled with tears. "I'm not saying that because I'm disgusted. I'm just scared…"

She turned to the crowd, her voice soft. "Was Sera emotionally unstable for a while? Otherwise, why would she do something so extreme?"

Federico suddenly clenched the diagnosis report in his fist, crumpling the paper into deep creases.

I floated behind him and watched his body begin to tremble.

Maybe he was finally realizing that I was truly dead.