Now I was standing in front of a building, the one we worked out of in Trieste. An upper middle class house on a cobblestone street. I went inside. Sh... greets me in the living room. It’s very much a European room to my mind, small, dark wood, intimate. ‘Sit,’ she tells me, indicating a chair. ‘I have something for you.’ I do so, wondering. The job is done. I can return to my old life now, away from her. In spite of the close moment we had shared, being around her still pained me. I needed to. “Oh my God, he’s holding my hand!” I thought, trying to refrain from screaming in excitement. My heart was now beating even faster than it was before, if that was even possible. “Uhmm,” I replied, looking down at our hands. He looked at me and smiled, “I’ll let go of your hands when you answer me.” “Well… when he puts it that way, I rather not tell so we can remain like this,” I thought, smiling. “What are you smiling about, Jenny?” Douglas asked me. “Nothing…” I replied, looking away trying to. More

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