When the babies were born, Papa kept watch outside the delivery room all night. By the time I woke up, he was holding his little granddaughter, beaming like the priest at the church next door.My son slept soundly beside me, his tiny hands curled into fists. As I looked at them, my eyes stung, and the tears began to fall.Mamma leaned down to hold me and wipe the tears from my face. "There now, it's all over. You have us from now on."I named my daughter Claudia Rinaldi and my son Emilio Rinaldi.Papa personally oversaw the engraving of every piece of silver and every cradle, treating it as seriously as he would any important family business.On the day of the twins' christening, the estate was packed with guests. Long tables filled the garden, and the elders fought over who got to hold the babies. Hard-faced old men who usually spent their days barking orders stood there, chuckling and shaking silver rattles for ages just to get Emilio to look their way.I sat beside Mamma wit
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