The moment we step into the house, we're greeted by Fiamma pacing back and forth in the office, where my father and Francesco are finishing their work.
“Oh, my dears, finally!” she exclaims with her usual dramatic flair.
“Can you tell us what happened now, Fiamma?” my father asks, rising to kiss her forehead.
“A tragedy!”
Francesco chuckles under his breath, well accustomed to our mother's exaggerations, while I remain impassive.
I tune out her dramatics until I hear Valentina's name.
“You're not listening to me!”
“Fiamma, speak clearly.”
“I called Valentina. She didn't answer, and I got worried. Then I called Graziela, and her phone was unavailable. Unavailable at this hour?” she argues, pointing at her expensive watch.
“Mother, have you heard anything since?” I ask while sending
