“I was told that I was to fly to Buenos Ares to meet Caravaggio. A suite was booked at the best hotel in the city. Everything was provided – a private jet, a limousine to meet me in Argentina, even the dress and shoes that I wore had been had hand-picked by him.
“When I arrived at the suite, Caravaggio was not there. I was confused. The only thing waiting for me was a handwritten letter. I opened it. It was from Caravaggio. He said that he was on an important mission and that he would be delayed. He needed my help. He needed me to do something very dangerous to help him with a mission.”
“What was it, Thallia? We can stop and have a break if it's too much,” said Eunice, stretching out a hand to her.
“No, no… I have to tell this. I have never spoken of any of this. It helps me.” She compo
