Giulia's face had gone pale. "But the collapse—it happened anyway. Three years after the closure. No one was inside."
Giulia arrived two weeks later, a brisk woman in her forties with a digital recorder and a stack of questions. Lena made her espresso and biscotti, and they sat in the station museum, the afternoon light slanting through the tall windows and illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air like tiny stars. lena bacci
But what Giulia hadn't expected—what she could not have prepared for—was what Lena revealed on the final afternoon. Giulia's face had gone pale