My thumb drifted to the bare space on my right ring finger where the Matriarch's ring had sat for years. The skin there was smooth and pale, a band of absence. I pressed into it once, hard, and then let go.
I looked at that carved wooden door, still slightly ajar, and set the tray down on the console table outside.
I picked up the insulated thermos and walked to the end of the hallway.
A pot of exquisitely rare orchids sat there on a stand, the kind Domenico kept because they signaled taste to the men who visited his study.
I tilted my wrist and poured every last drop of the herbal stomach-healing soup I'd spent three hours brewing into the soil.
That was when Olimpia appeared, wearing the gown that had been slashed to ribbons.
She watched me pour out the soup, a smug little smile curling at the corner of her lips.
"Giuliana, Domenico just told me the master bedroom gets better natural light. He said it would help with my recovery."
"He wants me to move in tonight. So you might want to start packing your things to make room."
The master bedroom in the Corrado estate. I'd lived there for five full years. Every corner of it held traces of the life Domenico and I had shared.