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J ulia turned left, entering the grand rectangular courtyard between the wings of the Uffizi Gallery, lined by columns with statuary on both sides. People packed the courtyard, taking pictures, laughing, and talking.

She waded into the crowd, ignoring a rising panic. French students milled under the colonnade that led to one of the entrances, shaded from the sun. She scooted up the steps, went through the group, and reached the wall, using them as a screen.

They chattered away, and she waited to see if Ballcap would follow her. In the next moment, she had her answer. He walked slowly through the crowd, his head wheeling left and right under his brim. She stayed low and spotted a ticket to the Uffizi in the back pocket of a teenager.

Julia realized there would be security guards inside the museum, and she would feel safer than on the crowded street.

She slipped the ticket from the girl’s pocket, feeling bad about it, but her safety was at stake.

She excused her way to the front of the line, and showed the ticket.

She passed through the doors and turnstiles, then entered a noisy white room packed with people buying audio tours.

Julia hurried past them, following the crowd around the corner and up a massive flight of dark stairs.

She reached the top and found herself in a long, majestic hallway with a black-and-white marble floor and paneled frescoes on a coffered ceiling.

To her right were the tall windows that overlooked the courtyard and on her left were rooms of paintings.

People flowed in and out of the rooms, talking in groups or listening to audio tours.

Julia crossed to the windows and looked down at the courtyard. People were cheek by jowl. She didn’t see Ballcap. She hoped she’d lost him but she couldn’t be sure. She needed Piero to come. She called him again, but he didn’t answer. She texted him again, too.

Julia’s thoughts raced. There had to be security somewhere, so it was still safer to stay in the museum than leave.

The crowd was flowing into the first room, and she went with them.

She passed Sienese paintings by Lippi and beautiful religious art on gilded arched panels.

She kept an eye out for Ballcap but didn’t see him.

She followed the crowd, and the next room was the early Renaissance, then Lippi’s portraits of the Duke and Duchess of Urbino that she studied in art history. Still no Ballcap. No Piero call, either.

She entered the next room, distracted by a small, dark portrait. She stopped short, recognizing it from somewhere. Its plaque read PORTRAIT OF GALEAZZO MARIA SFORZA, 1471, BY PIERO DEL POLLAIOLO .

My God. Julia realized it was the Duke of Milan, Caterina Sforza’s father. It looked like the portrait in the bedroom fresco. Quickly she snapped a picture of the portrait, lowered her phone, then froze.

Ballcap was among the throng in the hallway, but he wasn’t looking in her direction. She pivoted and headed for the entrance to the next room. It was the Botticelli Room, the destination of every art tourist, packed wall to wall.

Julia entered, and people jostled each other to take pictures of The Birth of Venus and other iconic paintings. She hurried through them into the hallway, glancing over her shoulder.

She spotted Ballcap entering the Botticelli Room. Frightened, she looked around for a security guard. There wasn’t one. She needed to stop Ballcap.

“Free money, everybody!” Julia pulled out her wallet, grabbed a bunch of euros, and threw them into the air.

Bills fluttered everywhere, and the crowd reacted instantly.

Some scrambled to catch the bills. Others crawled on the floor, grappling with each other.

The Botticelli Room erupted in chaos, making a human roadblock.

Julia hurried down the hall to the staircase, raced down the steps, and reached the ground floor.

Her heart pounded. Her breath came in ragged bursts.

She hustled toward the exit and bolted out the door under the colonnade.

She looked over her shoulder, but barreled headlong into a man reading his phone on a parked Vespa.

“ Che cosa ?” the man shouted, startled. He was about her age, with a headful of dark curls and an academic air. His brown eyes looked intelligent behind tortoiseshell glasses, and he had on a loose camel scarf with a black quilted jacket.

“Oh no… I’m so sorry,” Julia stammered, righting herself.

“No problem.” The man smiled, segueing into English with an American accent. He slipped his phone into his pocket. “Are you okay?”

“I’m being followed,” Julia blurted out. “My friend’s supposed to pick me up but he didn’t text me back.”

“Climb on, I’ll get you out of here.”

“But… I don’t know you.”

“My name’s Gianluca Moretti. Don’t worry, I’m a librarian. I work nearby. See?” Gianluca held up his employee lanyard. “You can call your friend from the library.”

Julia glanced over her shoulder, terrified to see Ballcap approaching the door under the colonnade. “Let’s go!” she said, swinging her leg over the Vespa.