Page 43

“For some,” she added.

He sighed.

They continued walking, and she resumed the story.

“The little prince was anxious to see the stranger and hear about how the stranger was able to make the long and treacherous voyage to their village. But every order he sent was refused by the stranger.”

Nico stopped.

Up ahead was a pathway made of stones. Looking down to the right, she saw that the creek had widened to become a river, to the left was the edge of a mountain, and at the end of the pathway were buildings that looked as though they’d been carved out of the mountain itself.

She pointed. “Is that it?”

He nodded. As they drew near, she saw a parking lot with cars situated at the start of the pathway. Then she spied the road that led to it.

“Why couldn’t we park here?” she asked.

“Only residents.”

“You’re not a resident?”

“Not anymore.”

“Nico!”

She turned to see Sofia and Beatrice running toward them.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Beatrice sputtered, out of breath.

“How come you didn’t park in the parking lot?” Sofia asked.

“You mean that one right there?” Nico asked, indicating the one in front of the stone path.

“Yeah,” said Sofia.

Nico turned around and glared at Rocco, but just then a dog came running. The dog passed them and ran directly to him.

“That’s Cat,” said Sofia.

Rocco avoided looking at her, crouched down, and began petting the dog, who slathered his face with his tongue.

“Dog is in the house,” said Beatrice.

“I’m supposing Dog is a cat?” Nico asked.

Beatrice nodded. “Uncle Rocco found them in a dumpster.”

“So I heard.”

A dog named Cat and a cat named Dog , she thought, eyeing him with curiosity.

The girls each took a hand and pulled Nico toward the stone pathway. Rocco and Cat followed. Up ahead, the stone buildings of the hamlet glowed golden in the sun.

“You’re the first girl Uncle Rocco’s brought here,” said Sofia.

Beatrice nudged her. “He must really like you.”

They giggled.

Nico was grateful Rocco was behind them and couldn’t see her face.

“Uncle Rocco said you have a pet rat named Templeton,” Beatrice said.

Nico nodded. “I do.”

“Like in Charlotte’s Web ,” Sofia said.

“That’s right.”

“How did you get him? Did you find him in a dumpster too?”

Nico hesitated, her heart beating fast. She knew he was listening.

Should she tell them about this Templeton, who she’d gotten from a pet store?

Or should she tell them about the original Templeton, her first rat?

If she told them about the Templeton now, she would be telling them the truth.

But if she told them about the first Templeton, she would be telling them a deeper truth.

She would be telling him a deeper truth.

If she were ever going to tell him a deeper truth, now would be the time to do it. Sofia and Beatrice were here, and she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye when she did.

She swallowed. “No, I didn’t find him in a dumpster. I found him in the apartment I was living in. He was a baby. His mother got caught in a trap and died. So, I took care of him.”

“That’s sad about his mother,” Sofia said.

“It is.”

Beatrice smiled up at her. “So, you became his mother.”

“I guess so. I wasn’t supposed to have any pets. So, I kept him a secret. He would have been taken away from me otherwise.”

Beatrice’s smile disappeared. “You mean, your mamma and papà would have taken him from you?”

“No, not them.”

Nico was grateful to the girls. This way was easier. Their questions were so sincere and direct.

“My mother died when I was very young. I never knew my father. I was raised by my grandfather.”

Sofia frowned. “So, your nonno would have taken Templeton from you?”

Nico knew enough Italian to know ‘nonno’ meant grandfather.

“No, he had already died by then. But the people who took care of me after he died would have.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sofia.

“Me too,” said Beatrice.

Nico sighed. “Me three.”

Finally, after walking five minutes, they came to a stone arcade.

“This is the gateway to the hamlet,” Rocco said, coming up behind them. “On the other side, there’s another one.”

As they walked under the covered passageway, Nico felt as though the village had gathered around them.

The stone buildings that clung to the side of the mountain huddled together.

In some cases, they were connected with brick vaults hovering over the cobblestone streets.

Nico looked around and thought, This is how I imagined that kingdom in the fairy tale .

They passed over a bridge and under a series of vaulted arches and finally arrived at the second gateway. Just beyond it stood a beautiful stone house, sitting on the edge of a slope overlooking the river below.

A group of people spilled out the front door. His parents, sister, her husband, and one set of grandparents. She recognized them all. She’d met them briefly and seen them at a few races.

It was easy to see the family resemblance. The warm brown eyes, the bold bone structure, the dark brown locks, the expressive mouths.

The house was warm and inviting with wooden floors and a beamed ceiling. Nico was surprised such a cozy house could still be filled with so much light, and then she realized it came not just streaming through the windows but from the people who inhabited it, who were so welcoming.

Rocco’s mother took Nico by the hand. “Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

Nico’s eyes gaped as she entered the room and looked at the walls. They were covered with posters of Formula 1 drivers, which was hardly surprising. What was surprising were the posters of Lella Lombardi and Maria Teresa de Filippis.

His mother smiled. “I guess I don’t need to tell you, this is Rocco’s room—well, was his room, growing up.”

Rocco suddenly appeared in the doorway. “You want to go for a ride?”

Nico felt her cheeks heat up, casting a furtive glance at his mother.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and taking her outside where a collection of motorcycles were waiting.

She felt foolish. Of course this was what he meant.

She blinked at the sight of one particularly sleek cycle. “Is that a—”

“Kawasaki Ninja H2R?” He grinned. “It is.”

The motorcycle he’d said he’d loan her in a direct message way back when, during their social media feud.

“Humph.”

He placed his hands on the red one beside it. “This one’s for you.”

She smiled. It was a Superleggera V4 Ducati.

He came up beside her, and in one long sweep his eyes cast a flurry of sparkles that flickered up and down her flesh as though he’d pointed a magic wand and showered her in a cloud of pixie dust—cast by lurid and depraved pixies.

She narrowed her eyes. “Why did you make me walk five miles when we could have parked, what—five minutes away?”

“Didn’t you like it? It’s beautiful country.”

“It is, but you didn’t answer my question.”

He sighed. “It just felt a little tense in the car, and I figured it would help.” Pausing, he peered at her. “It seems to have worked. Telling that fairy tale of the formerly charming prince who is now repulsive seems to have done the trick.”

She bit her lip but didn’t succeed in stifling her laugh.

He folded his arms. “Are you going to finish that story?”

She grinned. “Eventually.”

“At least tell me this. Does the stranger ever go to the castle?”

“Yes, once the little prince asks the stranger nicely. You’ll have to wait to hear the rest.”

He groaned. “We need to suit you up. I think you’re about my sister’s size. You can wear one of hers.”

“Are we going out alone?” she asked, annoyed with herself for her voice sounding so breathy when she’d intended it to sound matter-of-fact.

Before Rocco could respond, Nico got her answer. Rocco’s father and grandfather came walking toward them, suited up and ready to ride.

“Come on, get on your gear,” Rocco’s grandfather shouted.

His father shook his head. “For a couple of racers, you two sure do move slow.”