The lawyer’s eyes widened. He smiled. “Certo.”
Her inheritance. From Zia Rosaria, a great-aunt she’d met only once, a woman who smelled of rosemary and dust and had pinched Elena’s cheek so hard it left a mark. Elena had no idea the woman even had an estate.
That night, she blew the dust off the book. “Okay,” she whispered. “Dal Principiante al Maestro.”
The lawyer’s eyes widened. He smiled. “Certo.”
Her inheritance. From Zia Rosaria, a great-aunt she’d met only once, a woman who smelled of rosemary and dust and had pinched Elena’s cheek so hard it left a mark. Elena had no idea the woman even had an estate.
That night, she blew the dust off the book. “Okay,” she whispered. “Dal Principiante al Maestro.”
