Page 57

J ulia hurried along the cobblestone walkway, her phone to her ear.

The call was ringing, but Courtney wasn’t answering.

They were supposed to meet in the Piazza di Santa Croce, but tourists crowded every square inch, talking, eating, and jostling each other.

Tour groups filled the stone benches and thronged at kiosks selling handbags, T-shirts, and souvenirs.

Julia pressed End, anxious again. Maybe she hadn’t improved as much as she’d thought. Or maybe her session with Helen shook her up. She couldn’t begin to digest what she’d been told. She glanced over her shoulder, scanning for White Fiat or Black Ballcap, but she didn’t see them.

Her phone rang, and she picked up. “Courtney, where are you? I’m in the piazza.”

“Sorry I’m late but I’m here, in the Basilica. Come on in.”

Arg. “No, let’s just go. It takes time to get to the hospital. It’s rush hour and I don’t want to be late for Gianluca.”

“We have plenty of time. Come in, it’ll take ten minutes.”

“Okay.” Julia hung up, then threaded her way through the crowd to the entrance to the Basilica, a beautiful Italian Gothic Cathedral with the stunning Brunelleschi’s dome, the artistic and engineering marvel that epitomized the Renaissance in Florence.

The Cathedral’s ornate white-and-green marble facade was divided into three sections, and a soaring peaked roof with a round window dominated the center section.

The largest entrance was a carved wooden door, flanked by another set of carved doors, one of which was open.

Julia beelined for it and hurried inside to the Cathedral. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness, which made her feel off-balance. It was packed, and tourists were shadows shifting in the low light. She looked around for Courtney but didn’t see her.

She whirled around, getting her bearings in the immense hall.

Arched vaults flanked the room on either side, and at the very end was a beautiful altar and multi-vaulted nave, its elongated windows of stained glass glowing like jewels.

Statuary and massive paintings lined walls of white plaster, and tourists milled through the arches, following docents in groups. She didn’t see Courtney.

Julia texted her: Where are you?

Courtney texted back: Near the altar.

Julia hurried there, crossing the hall through the crowd. She spotted Courtney in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary, lighting a red votive candle on a stand of many others, their yellow flames in flickering rows.

Julia reached her side. “Hi, ready to go?”

Courtney looked over. “How was it?”

“I’ll tell you on the way to the hospital.”

“Don’t you want to light a candle for Mike? Or did you already, like, contact him?”

“No. I’ll light a candle.”

“I already paid. Just take one.”

“Thanks.” Julia took a votive candle from a box, placed it on the stand, and tried to light it using another candle, but her hand was shaking.

Courtney blinked, concerned. She took the candle, lit Julia’s votive, and replaced it. “Are you okay? Tell me about the session.”

“Let’s talk in the car. I feel anxious again.”

“Aw, and you were doing so well.”

“One step forward, two steps back?” Julia closed her eyes and tried to pray for Mike, but couldn’t concentrate. “Okay, let’s go.”

“This is such a beautiful church. Michelangelo and Galileo are buried here, how cool is that?”

“Cool. Now let’s go.” Julia turned away, and they threaded their way back through the crowd, passing a sculpted marble figure of a woman sitting atop a marble casket, holding a portrait of Machiavelli.

Courtney pointed. “That’s Machiavelli’s tomb.”

“Oh no.” Julia recoiled, remembering Machiavelli had been Caterina’s mortal enemy. Was she feeling Caterina right now? Could she channel Caterina? “Can we go faster?”

“Why?” Courtney frowned, worried. “What did that medium do to you?”

“It’s not her, it’s me,” Julia answered, heading for the exit.

Julia told Courtney everything that happened with Helen, while Courtney drove, listening. The singular cityscape of Florence surrounded them, but neither of them noticed. When Julia finished, she looked over. “Well? Do you believe it? That I have… abilities?”

“Yes, I believe it.”

“Why?”

“I’ve known you a long time.” Courtney glanced over, grave. “Remember that night junior year, you had a dream about my father? You told me the next morning, so I called home. He’d had a heart attack that night. My mom was just about to call me. He almost died .”

Julia remembered, in a flash. The dream came back to her as if she’d had it last night.

Courtney’s father used to visit campus and take them to lunch.

One night, she dreamed he appeared in a suit and a Princeton tie he always wore, and he was trying to tell her something.

She hadn’t been able to figure out what he was saying and she’d awakened in a cold sweat.

“You remember?” Courtney shook her head, her eyes on the road. “You didn’t think it meant anything, but I thought it was weird. So did my mom.”

“So you think your dad’s soul was communicating with me?”

“It’s possible, isn’t it?”

“But he was alive. He lived.”

“Yes, but he was near death, he almost died, and Helen’s telling you that death is an artificial line. She’s saying you can communicate with the soul of the person whether they’re alive or dead, even for hundreds of years, like Caterina.”

“This can’t be true.” Julia glanced out the window. Florence whizzed by at a dizzying rate, but it could’ve been her mood.

“Why not? There are mediums in the world. They’re just people, and I guess at some point they figure out they have these abilities, like you have. They have to start somewhere.” Courtney nodded, steering to the right. “If you watch true crime, you know they use psychics. It’s legit.”

“She says it might or might not be the drug. Like it might wear off, but it might have opened a pathway in my brain.”

“A pathway? Wow! Like a portal.”

“Do you think I should let her teach me?”

“Yes, I do,” Courtney answered matter-of-factly. “You don’t know where it might lead.”

“That’s what worries me.”

“It’s good. It might lead to your bio family. That’s why you went to her in the first place, you wanted to find them.”

“No, I went because I wanted her to find them.”

“So, even better, you can do it yourself.”

“Is it? Do I want to be a medium?” Julia shot back, then it struck her. If she became a medium, she could communicate with Mike. She’d be able to talk to him any time and hear him talk to her. They could be together again, in a way. It would be like he was alive.

“Jules, do you realize what this means? You have superpowers !” Courtney’s eyes lit up. “You’re like Spider-Man when he first gets his superpowers. He has to figure out how to use them. Remember?”

“I’m not Spider-Man .”

“It happens in Star Wars, too, with The Force. Luke has to learn to use The Force. You have The Force !” Courtney grinned, excited. “Wait’ll I tell Paul! He loves Star Wars!”

“No.” Julia put up a hand. “Don’t tell Paul.”

“Why not? This is the coolest thing ever!”

“I don’t want him to think I’m a freak.”

“Why can’t you look on the bright side?”

Why can’t you be happy? Julia shooed the thought away, but it was Courtney’s own words and they hit home.

Why couldn’t she be happy? If she were a medium, she could talk to Mike, and to Gianluca.

What about her mother? Her father? She wondered if her gift was a blessing, or a curse. She’d be opening Pandora’s box.

Courtney was saying, “Jules, it’s a gift from God, like any other talent.

You’re an amazing artist, remember? You used to paint all the time.

Hello, you found some watercolors that a little girl did, and she might be your bio mom.

Maybe your bio mom has superpowers, too.

What if you’re both psychics? Mother-daughter psychics? ”

Julia reeled. “I can’t begin to deal with that, and anyway I’m not a psychic. It’s not the same as a medium.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I don’t know,” Julia had to admit. “I’d have to ask Helen.”

“You mean Yoda.”

Julia let it go. “You know, she gave me an exercise to try at the hospital, with Gianluca.”

“Try not. Do. There is no try.”