Eleni
I unpack the suitcase I packed so hastily when I left Dante’s house into my closet, then pause. This is Dante’s house, still, in my mind. And yet this room, this closet, is mine. I shared this bed with Mama. I’ve cried here, and been furious, and smiled for so long my face hurt. I run my fingers over the pillowcase and look around. Maybe Dante will let me paint this something other than drab tan. Or at least get new sheets.
For now, though, I need to study. I lost three days of study-time to learning everything I could about Dante. Sometime during my absence, someone installed a desk in the previously featureless guest room, which brings another smile to my face. Already, I’m making my mark on this place. I could even be happy here, a ferry ride away from the city. I put my laptop,
