“Don’t worry, sweetheart. They’re probably in the garden,” Marcello soothed, his deep voice a calm anchor as Azzurra gathered Delfina into her arms. Together, they headed toward the lounge.

“Benedetto, where’s Cesario?” Marcello asked.

“He must be in the library” Benedetto began, but his words faltered when the doors opened and an eleven-year-old Cesario appeared. He was carrying Rosaria, now six, in his arms. The little girl clung to him, her face pressed against his ...