PROLOGUE

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Citron

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Citron. That was the smell that reminded me of her. Citron was the citrus fruit called 'golden apple' by the ancients, because it looks similar to a large lemon with a bruised surface, bright yellow, so intense that it looks like pure gold. It emanates a sparkling and slightly sour perfume. It has the taste of summer, of a burst of energy that often recalls the sea breeze, that breeze she loved so much... The sea, after all, was her home. It was the only place where she felt free to be what she really was; free from all judgement, from all virtues and, above all, from all laws.

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