Page 30 of Be Still My Unbeating Heart

“If I’ve learned anything from dying,” Bastian said, “it’s that you should have as much fun as possible while you still can.”

“I’m not sure I agree.”

Bastian laughed. “Fun is the whole point of life! What else is there to live for?”

De Luca shrugged. “I suppose it’s easier to make time for fun when you know you’re going to live forever.”

Touché.

They sat in silence for a moment, and Bastian turned over what De Luca had said. It made sense now, his feeling of duty to the town. To Luna. He was trying to do what his father had done before him, which couldn’t be easy. Perhaps he felt he didn’t measure up.

“The song isn’t just about escaping,” De Luca said, and Bastian realized he was referring to “Smalltown Boy,” the song he had been humming.

“No?” Bastian said.

“Listen to the lyrics. It’s about finding your place, away from people who might judge you; family members who don’t understand you. It’s about finding your home.”

Damn. A butt like thatandknowing the meaning behind a Bronski Beat song?Double damn.

Movement came from within the gelateria. Arianna was cleaning tables. Bastian recalled the frosty exchanges she had shared with De Luca and couldn’t help broaching the topic.

“What is going on between you and the gelato girl—” he began to say, but then Whitby leapt between them, shrieking. She landed on De Luca’s lap, claws out, and De Luca yelped, jumping to his feet, knocking the cat to the ground.

“Whitby!” Bastian said. “What on earth has gotten into you?”

“The waiter!” the cat cried, her back arched. “Emilio! He’s come out of the café!”

11

They lost him.

“How did we lose him?!” Bastian cried, running down the street, turning corner after corner, searching for Emilio’s scent.

“I think I can perform a locator charm,” Whitby said, bounding alongside him. “If you’ll just give me a second—”

“There’s no time for that,” Bastian said.

The waiter was their best shot at clearing Bastian’s name. Theyhadto find him. There were too many other scents, though. Sun cream, pizza, and the bougainvillea. He couldn’t discern Emilio among them.

He rounded a corner and crashed into somebody, only just stopping himself from knocking them off their feet.

“Oh! Hello, dears,” Aunt Agata said, puffing in surprise as she looked between Bastian and De Luca. The inspector had kept pace with Bastian without any trouble. Impressive. Aunt Agata was laden with shopping bags, and her gaze sliced between them, shining with interest.

“Did you see a man go this way?” Bastian asked. “He’s blond and wearing a Micio Micio uniform?”

“Emilio Valentini? Oh yes, I saw him just a moment ago.”

He shouldn’t be surprised that the town’s social butterfly knew exactly to whom he was referring.

“Did you see where he went?” De Luca asked.

Aunt Agata gave him a scornful look like he should know better.

“Of course. He went into the mayor’s office.”

“The mayor’s office?” Whitby asked by Bastian’s feet. “What’s he doing there?”

“Is something wrong?” Aunt Agata asked. “Is this about poor Luna?”