Leonora

Viviana's POV

Vincenzo never missed a night.

No matter how late it was. No matter how briefly he came home. No matter how exhausted he looked the few times I caught a glimpse of him through the crack in my door or the reflection in the hallway mirror.

Every night, there were papers slid carefully under my door.

Sometimes one page. Sometimes three. Once, five, his handwriting tighter, more cramped