Chapter 11
The room was quiet again, leaving just the three of us.
Matteo had been woken by the noise. He rubbed his eyes and asked:
“Mama, what happened to that bad man? Did he bully you again?”
“It’s okay, baby,” I stroked his little head. “The bad man has been chased away.”
A week later, I was discharged and went home.
To make my recovery easier, Dante had my art studio moved to the ground floor.
One afternoon, while organizing Dante’s study, I accidentally discovered a hidden compartment.
Inside was a thick stack of photos and newspaper clippings.
Curious, I took them out and began to look through them. I froze.
They were all photos of me.
From my teenage art exhibitions to photos of my life in my twenties.
There was even a newspaper clipping from my very first art show.
