Page 8 of Lupo

"Wait." I don't know what I want to ask. There are too many questions and no answers. "Thank you."

She pauses at the barn door, looking back. "Don't make me regret it."

Then she's gone, and I'm alone again with the pain and the terrifying blankness where my life used to be.

Chapter 4: Isabella

Two days.

The stranger has been here for two days, and I still don't know his name.

I stand at the kitchen sink, washing the breakfast dishes and staring out at the barn. The door is closed, just like I left it an hour ago when I brought him bread and water. He was awake then, sitting up against the hay bales, looking less gray than yesterday but still terrible.

Still nameless.

"Mama, can I have more juice?"

I turn to find Elena at the table, swinging her legs, her cup empty. "You've had two cups already, baby. Water now."

"But I want juice."

"Water," I repeat, filling her cup from the tap.

She takes it with a dramatic sigh that would be funny if I wasn't so exhausted. I've barely slept since I found him. Every sound makes me jump. Every creak of the old house makes me wonder if he's gotten out of the barn, if he's coming for us, if I've made a terrible mistake.

"Mama, what's the man's name?"

I close my eyes briefly. She's asked this question at least twenty times since yesterday. "I told you, baby. I don't know his name."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't remember."

"Why doesn't he remember?"

"Because he hurt his head."

"How did he hurt it?"

"Elena." I try to keep the frustration out of my voice. "I don't know, okay? Now finish your water and go play."

She slides off her chair, leaving the cup half-full on the table. "Can I go see him?"

"Absolutely not."

"But why?"

"Because I said so." I soften my tone when I see her bottom lip tremble. "He's resting. He needs quiet time to get better. Like in a hospital."

"I'll be quiet."

"Elena, no. Stay away from the barn. I mean it."

She crosses her arms, exactly the way I do when I'm frustrated, and stomps toward her room. A moment later, I hear her playing with her blocks, narrating an elaborate story to her stuffed rabbit.

I lean against the counter and pull out my phone.

For the hundredth time, I open the browser and begin searching. Missing person Tuscany. Missing man Florence. Car accident Tuscany.