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Less amusingly, shadows had gathered over it, creating the effect of something dangling. Almost a figure. Hanging. But only if you squinted, which Anna decided to stop doing.
Just before she drifted off, in the in-between between consciousness and oblivion, she realized what had bothered her about her nieces whispering in the hall. They’d been speaking Italian.
“Fuck.” She refilled her water, hands shaking hard. “Yeah. You’re scary. I’ll give you that.”
La chiave del male. La chiave del torre.
She poured a glass of water now and went to her laptop. When she clicked it on, her browser was open to the booking page for Villa Taccola. It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at and why—and then she let out a shocked laugh. “You learned to work the internet! That is adorable.”
“Could you back the fuck off for two seconds? I am monologuing!” Anna snarled.
I’m not a lost lamb. I’m a black sheep. These are two very different things.”
Anna swatted it away, sneering. “You don’t want what I’ve got, you jaundiced hag. And you really, really don’t want me dead. If I get stuck here, things are going to change. It’s going to be vacation. A mess, but vacation. I’m going to have a good time, because I fucking deserve it.”
“Meglio che tu lo capisca.”
“Sciolgo il tuo incantesimo. Il tuo nome è dimenticato. Il tuo lavora è dimenticato. Il tuo potere è andato.”
