The last conversation

The next day dawned gray, cold and absolutely silent.

Of course, cars were still passing by, people were leaving their homes to go to work, and children were going to school. But the noise present, that typical sound that Emanuele's ears were used to, could not penetrate the enormous bubble of silence that surrounded her.

The call from the delegate the day before was an answer she had been begging to receive, but now that she knew that her sister's last wish was to see her, an unbearable weight had taken over her heart.

Sarah was going to die. And all they had together were brief, monitored, timed conversations.

Emanuele looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a black overcoat and pants of the same color, as well as dark boots. Her dyed red hair was tied up in a tight bun, and no matter how hard she tried to disguise her swollen face, red from crying with makeup, it was still obvious to anyone paying a little more attention.

Joshua appeared in the doorway, wearing dark soci