Alessia slammed her bedroom door shut. She didn't mean to close it that hard-it just happened. With a heavy sigh, she leaned against it, eyes closed. It had felt like this day would never end. After the evening meal, she'd been glad to kick Nonna out of the kitchen and clean up, but now, all she wanted to do was to sit and think.

Opening her eyes, she glanced around her room. Golden light streamed through the window, illuminating dozens of charcoal drawings pinned to her wall in a fiery glow. Luca's drawings.

She rubbed her empty finger. What would he think of all this? Would he have agreed with what she did?

With heavy feet, she stepped up to her desk, her gaze anchored on the sketch of a chaffinch on a thin branch, now hanging on the wall. The shading, the curves, every line and mark made it look so lifelike. As if it would fly off the page at any moment. It was Luca's last drawing. He'd made it only a few minutes before he'd died. Now it glowed the same sunset yellow and orange that painted the sky, a warm reminder that yes, a part of him was still here. She didn't need a ring to remember that.

She swallowed against the tightening in her throat. I miss you so much.

But what would he say? He'd want her to jump into action, even when her body felt like it was chiseled from marble. She tore her eyes from the drawing and stared at the empty surface of her desk. She couldn't remember the last time she'd sat here. Slowly, she pulled the chair out and sat down. A pen. She needed a pen. She opened a drawer and found one, and a note pad. With her forehead in her palm, she wrote 100,000 euros at the top of the paper. One hundred stupid thousand euros.

She subtracted the amount she'd earn from selling her ring and her car. It barely made a dent. But if she found a job to earn a few thousand every month it would take... another three years to pay it all off.

Holding her head with both hands, she heaved another sigh.

Maybe Papa was right. Selling the farm was their only choice. They'd make enough to pay back the debt and have enough to buy something smaller.

And maybe she should find a place of her own so they could downsize further. The idea made her heart ache. She'd never dreamed of living alone. Ever. And now it looked like she had no choice while Veronica rubbed her good fortune in her face.

Something brushed against her leg. She looked down to see a black and white ball of fur wrapping itself around her leg.

"You need some attention, Luna baby?" She picked up the cat and, with a hearty purr, she curled into a ball on Alessia's lap. She rubbed the top of Luna's head, the vibrations coming from deep inside her having an almost immediate calming effect. They sat like that for a minute, the only sound the low rumble coming from Luna.

A firm knock rapped at the door six times.

Alessia didn't have to ask to know who it was. "Come in."

The door swung open and Nonna shuffled inside. She held a battered shoe box in her hands and elbowed the door shut behind her. Her eyes gleamed mischievously.

"What's that?" Alessia asked, rising to her feet.

"Something I'd like to show you." With a knowing smile, Nonna crossed the room and sat down on the bed. She set the box on her lap.

What is she up to? Alessia scooped up Luna and sat next to Nonna. Her grandmother still smelled like the fresh tomatoes she'd peeled earlier that day.

"This box belonged to my Giacomo," Nonna explained as she lifted the flimsy lid, her voice full of endearment when said her late-husband's name. The tone reminded Alessia she wasn't the only one to have lost a loved one. Maybe Nonno hadn't passed away too young like Luca had, but Nonna still had to experience the pain of losing him after decades together. If anyone understood Alessia's grief, it was Nonna.

Alessia dropped her gaze to the box. Inside was a pile of letters and photographs and a few small trinkets. Nonna dug beneath the letters and pulled out a leather book. "His journal." Nonna held it out with a pointed look.

Alessia took the book and turned it over in her hands. The cover was bumpy and scratched, the scent reminding her of a shoe shop. "This is neat." She had a few sweet memories of her grandfather, who had passed away when she was eight. He always had a candy in his pocket and would get on the floor with her to build castles out of blocks. She untied the leather string that wrapped around the journal several times. The pages cracked as she opened it and slowly turned them.

"I want you to keep it," Nonna said. "There are some entries in there that might interest you."

"Thank you." Alessia smiled, unable to take her eyes off the pages. They had been filled with a heavy cursive scrawl. Some words she could barely make out. Most entries were from the 1960s, with some sketches of flowers and buildings in between. "But why are you giving this to me?"

Nonna patted her arm. "Because it's time." She closed the box and stood, tucking it under one arm.

"Time for what?"

"You'll see." With a wink, she turned. Alessia was still flipping the pages when Nonna left the room. Her herbal scent still lingered for a few minutes as Alessia studied the words and sketches. As she turned a page, something slipped out. A faded photograph of her on her gradfather's lap. She hadn't seen that one before. She held his pocket watch in one hand and his pinky in the other.

She allowed a soft smile as she tucked the photograph back between the pages, and continued flipping through. She stopped at one entry accompanied by a sketch of a stone inscribed with ancient letters.

It wasn't Latin, but Etruscan.

Where in the world did he find this? He never went far from the farm. Into town a few times a month. To Florence every few years. It must have been somewhere local.

She turned the page and studied the drawing on the left side. It looked like a map. A map of the farm. She held the journal closer to her face, wondering if she was imagining it. That square was definitely the house. The other square above and to the right was definitely the barn. Her grandfather had even marked the forest and the flower garden.

But the Etruscan stone wasn't marked anywhere. Maybe he'd drawn the map for a different purpose.

She flipped back to the previous page and studied the drawing of the stone. She wasn't sure what it said, the lines were too unclear. But, maybe she could find out.

Placing the journal on her bed, she dropped to the floor and reached underneath, then pulled out a cardboard box. Inside, a small bag waited where she had left it two years ago. She pulled the bag out and zipped it open. Her trowel, picks, brushes, tape measure, and GPS unit were all still inside.

The GPS unit probably needed new batteries. She picked up her trowel and turned it in her hand, inspecting it for rust. It reflected the last of the sunset spilling through the window. Something inside her stirred. The itch to go outside and run her hands through the dirt again. To feel the cool, damp earth between her fingers.

To discover what secrets waited under the soil.

***

The morning sun peaked over the hills, shooting rays between the leaves above Alessia's head. She trekked through the forest, carrying her camera and a bucket. A shovel rested against her shoulder as she held the handle with one hand.

Finally, she reached her destination-a large clearing at the top of the hill covered in tall, yellow grass and dotted with bushes. She set her things down and opened her bag. At the sound of a rustling noise ahead, she lifted her head and watched, holding her breath. The grass swayed as something large and solid ran through-probably a wild boar. Thankfully, it was heading in the other direction. She didn't feel like getting chased by a wild boar today. Or ever, to be honest.

Certain the animal was gone, she took out her notebook and a folder, then pulled out a sheet with a satellite photo printed in black and white with high contrasts. She turned it until it matched the landscape before her. The bumps and dips shown on the satellite image were hard to see from her perspective, but one square-shaped bump seemed like a good candidate.

She grabbed a few orange flags from her bucket, then stepped forward until she came to the swell. She shoved the flags into the ground and, satisfied, walked back to her equipment.

After carting her things over to the bump, she picked up her shovel and started digging between the flags. Half-an-hour later, a shallow five-by-five foot hole had been dug and a pile of dirt now sat at one end. She picked up her sieve, sat on the ground, and started sifting.

The dirt was cool and grainy between her fingers, coating her hands in light brown. There was something calming about dirt. It was full of microbes and minerals, and there was no better way to feel closer to earth than putting your hands into it. She took her time going through the pile, but an hour later, she'd finished sifting, and had found nothing.

With a sigh, she sat at the edge of the hole and took a gulp from her water bottle. Either she'd now have to try digging deeper, or try somewhere else. But where? Or she could try a different survey method. She's have to contact the university in Florence again and see if they'd be willing to loan out a magnetic surveying device. That would pick up changes in the soil and would be a lot easier than digging holes everywhere.

She took out her notepad and wrote a quick entry that detailed the morning's efforts. If only her grandfather had left more clues so she'd know exactly what she needed to look for. Otherwise this was probably a huge waste of time while her family drowned in debt. As she finished writing, a familiar chirping sound came from her left.

A chaffinch bounced from branch to branch in the shrubs, singing brightly.

Alessia smiled. Yes, this was it. This is what Luca would have told her to do.

Do what makes your soul happy. Then she would find the way.

************************
Author's Note:

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! This one was a little more uplifting. 😅 Maybe Alessia has finally found some direction.

Also, if you're curious to know what happened to Luca, I do have a short backstory available called The Venetian Curse. You can read this by signing up for my newsletter--a link to download some free stories will be sent to your inbox! Just follow the external link here or in my profile to my newsletter sign up page.