The Wrong House

Vittoria

The house settled deep and slow into the evening's calm, after the night's turmoil. Inside, the corridors carried a whiff of smoke and cedar varnish, and the broken glass on the balcony had been swept away to leave cream pale smudges in the marble where the lights caught them.

I was wrapped in one of Dante's shirts on the couch in what was once the east wing sitting room. The cushions wer