Stellina

Countryside

The soft, damp earth brushed between her toes, soothing the fiery blisters that blemished her feet. She stumbled up the hill, her shoe almost falling out of her hand. Inhaling, Lina breathed in the crystal air that somehow refreshed her soul, vastly different from the stale air of the city. The entire world seemed to be painted in hues of pale blue and poppy-red and green, somewhat calming Lina's nerves.

Luka panted beside her, a knapsack strung over his shoulder. He brushed a glossy piece of hair from his forehead, producing a sweet aroma of chamomile. Lina suppressed a smile, allowing him to guide her up the hill.

"Almost there," he murmured, his hand lightly brushing against her arm. "Remind me again why you wanted me to come with you to visit this friend of yours? Not that I don't mind spending time with you. It's just... this viola case is so heavy."

A gentle breeze caressed her hair, blowing an auburn strand into her mouth as she chuckled. "Don't be such a baby," she wrote. "I can't just go to Italy by myself, and Mama and Liliane couldn't come with me. Besides, Curt was more willing to pay for our tickets if you came along."

Lina closed her eyes for a moment as she thought about little Stella and the letters in the book. She was so close--she could feel it--and to tell Luka and risk him shutting everything down would be awful. Lina had spent the entire train ride to Italy piecing together bits of information in hopes of getting closer to finding Stella.

She gulped, a lump forming in her throat. Anything to keep her mind off Mama and Liliane.

"I am just surprised we've made it this far. It's no easy task crossing borders, you know. I just hope we get back in." His tone was light as he led her through the clumps of tall grass and red flowers. Yet Lina sensed something else was buried beneath that playful facade.

She glanced down at the piece of paper where she had hastily scrawled the address down. Birds flitted about, exuberantly chirping as if to announce their presence. And sure enough, as Lina looked up, a little cottage stood nestled in the fields, on the outskirts of the city.

Victor's house. Perhaps the answer to her mystery.

"Is that it?" Luka asked, his stride quickening.

Lina nodded. "Look, just don't say anything to him, all right? The letter I wrote will explain it all. Victor is very sensitive, and I don't want you to scare him off. This is an important matter between us, and I don't need you wrecking it."

His chocolate eyes widened. "All right, all right. I won't do anything to harm your mission. Though if you could just tell me what it was, maybe I could be more understanding and know how to act appropriately."

Lina's heart raced as the little cottage loomed closer and closer. When she reached the house, she paused for just a moment to put on her shoes. Just as her knuckles struck the door, it creaked open, revealing a man with leathery skin and fluffy white hair that reminded Lina of the clouds above. "Can I help you?" he asked in Italian, his voice like honey: gentle and sweet. A stark contrast to all the other people Lina had confronted about Stella.

She handed him the letter written in French, a smile forced on her lips.

But as his eyebrows furrowed while he read over the words, a pit formed in Lina's stomach. She tried to recall what she had written, yet it seemed like ages ago since she had attempted to explain everything on the paper. Had she explained everything clearly enough? Gently enough? Was it the right thing telling him to keep it between themselves and avoid discussing the matter in front of Luka?

Luka exhaled, his eyes glued to the earth. Victor's calloused hands gently folded the letter as he looked up. "Is your friend Jewish?" he answered in French.