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“How did he die, Mamma?”

“Pia…”

“We’re alone. Just tell me.”

“He burned to death.”

“Mylos…” I couldn’t go on. I covered my mouth with my hand, hoping to stave off being sick to my stomach. Unsuccessful, I ran inside to use the lavatory.

All eyes were on me as I walked back out to the terrazza. My mother was still seated in the same place.

“It’s my fault—”

“Shh.” My mother shook her head. “Let’s not speak of it.”

When we rejoined the others, I could feel Mylos’ eyes on me, but I couldn’t bear to look at him. Because of me, because of my gift to him, he’d almost died—more than once. First, from the explosion in Iraq and then the explosion in London. By the grace of God, he hadn’t, but I could no longer tempt fate.

My heart was breaking, but I had no choice. I had to end things between us. I could never look Mylos in the eye again, knowing that because I’d given him the cursed stone, he’d suffered unimaginably.

“Pia?”

“I am not feeling well, Mylos. I am going to the villa to lie down.” I said all of that without looking him in the eye. He stood, most likely to come with me, but I held up my hand.

“Lucia, would you mind going with me?”

She followed me out the door and closed it behind her.

“Pia, what’s wrong?”

When my eyes filled with tears and I shook my head, Lucia put her arm around my shoulders.

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

“I need to rest.” I knew the stress I’d experienced in the last couple of hours was bad for the baby. If nothing else, I’d close the draperies in my bedroom and try to sleep.

We walked up the hill in silence. With every step I took, I tried my hardest to let go of the tension in my body, but every time I thought of Mylos and how he’d almost died because of me, I felt my muscles tighten again.

When we reached the terrazza, Lucia went ahead of me to open the front door. I walked over to the railing and looked out over the vineyards of Valentini.

The hair on the back of my neck bristled when I sensed I wasn’t alone. I looked over my shoulder and saw Paolo standing in the back corner of the terrazza, holding a gun to Lucia’s head.

“Hello, Pia,” he said with an evil smile.

26

Grinder

It was obvious that whatever Countess Maria told Pia about the stone, had jarred her. Never before had she refused to make eye contact with me.

I was torn between following her and giving her some space. At least she hadn’t left alone.

“What did you tell her?” I asked when the countess sat back down beside me.

“The stone has…a history,” she began after taking a deep breath. “Some say it’s cursed.”

“Is that what Pia thinks?” I asked.

She nodded.

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