Author's note: this is from Duke's point of view
- -
After freshening up, I joined Sergio in the kitchen.
He brought coffee and a variety of breakfast items from the bakery down the street, and the vast amount of food was a warning that the news he was about to share with me is not good.
As I sunk my teeth into perfectly baked focaccia bread with baby tomatoes and herbs, Sergio was sizing me up with a knowing smirk. It was obvious that he was still guessing which one of our neighbors warmed my bed last night.
Sergio was my guardian, my best friend, my only connection to the life I used to have in Italy, but he is also a gossip.
