“‘Ciao, puffo!’ (Hi, you smurf!) How about I throw you into the pool?” Leone asked in Italian. “Do it!” arrived the little boy’s defiant answer, also in Italian. The boy’s laughing eyes brightened with excitement. He splayed out his arms and legs, ready to fly through the air into the still, blue water despite being fully dressed.“Nah, I won’t do it,” Leone told him, hitching the boy’s wiry figure onto his arm so they were eye to eye. “That’s your punishment for trying to push me in, ‘nanerottolo’ (you, little gremlin). No swimming at all. Now, go on and say hello to Miss Wilde,” he said, indicating her with a nod. Norah looked at Leone, absolutely mesmerized seeing him acting so… playfully. She waited for the little boy to talk. After all, she was the stranger in this picture. She didn’t want to scare him.“Norah, this little devil is Marco Gritti, my second cousin. He has all of his mother’s sass and twice his father’s disregard for danger.”“Ciao!” he exclaim
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