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"Horrifying things happen when you least expect.

The best thing to do is be prepared for them to happen."

- Beatrice

"Did you see who it was?" Marija asked me while I tied my shoes on. We were sitting on a bench in our locker room after our practice. She was looking down at her phone, answering a couple of messages. Her long, red hair fell across her head, hiding her oval face.

I took a deep breath. "I wish I did, but whoever it was, he or she scared me to death."

Picking up my backpack, I stood up from the bench and waited for Marija to finish with her texting. "Coming?" I asked.

She looked up, smiled at me, and took my hand so I could help her stand up. We walked through the door, closed it behind us, and we made our way down the same hallway we always walked. But there was something strange this time. I had this feeling of someone watching us. It wasn't big at first, but the deeper we walked through the hallway, the more I felt anxious.

"Did you tell your mother what happened?" she asked.

I lifted my head, staring at all of the portraits above us. "She found me standing in a garage with a rose in my hand. She didn't believe any word I said."

"A rose?" Marija frowned. "Maybe it was from a secret admirer." she punched me with her elbow.

I shook my head. "I don't think so, Marija. Who would want to send a rose to me?" Folding my hands in front of my chest, I take a deep breath.

Marija turned around, staring at me like I was crazy. "Oh, I don't know? Every man in Toscana wants to marry you," she smirked. "Perhaps the mystery man you are talking about was that guy that comes to the bar every day," she paused for a moment, scratching her head. "What is his name? Mario? Miguel?"

"Marcelo," I answered, shaking my head.

"You should ask him out," she said.

"I don't think so," I whispered, avoiding her cheeky gaze.

"Oh, I forgot, you don't believe in sex before marriage," she spits out.

I glanced at her. "There is nothing wrong with not having sex before marriage. It only makes it more special."

She laughed a little. "Maybe I should arrange something for you. You know, to finally experience something in your life."

I heard something shake. When I turned around, I saw one of the portraits fall from the old wall down to the floor and break into hundreds of pieces. The painting itself ripped into a couple of places. Marija and I stood in there in place, our jaws open in fear. If we were standing a couple of meters behind, this thing could have fallen on top of us, and perhaps one of us would be in a hospital by now.

"What the hell are you doing there?" I heard Mrs. Bocelli's voice coming from the second hallway. Her stick made loud noises that echoed through the whole old mansion.

We stood there in place and watched her walk through the hallway to us. Her eyes were cold as ice as she first looked at us, then at the broken portrait. She dragged her black turtle dress behind her as she slowly made her way through the hallway to us.

"What did you do?" she growled.

"We didn't do anything, Mrs. Bocelli," I answered, my voice shaking.

Marija had her head bowed down, trying to avoid Mrs. Bocelli's deadly stare.

Mrs. Bocelli picked up a piece of wood from the floor before she glanced at the wall and frowned. I glanced at it too, wanting to know at what she was frowning. When I glanced up, I saw a brick missing from the same place where the portrait was hanging. It looked like someone pulled the brick out, so he could spy on the people that walk through the hallway.

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Perhaps someone was spying? Maybe my paranoia from before wasn't just my imagination.

"You girls should go now," Mrs. Bocelli whispered, "I will clean this up." She sounded anxious like something is bothering her.

"It's okay, we will clean it up," I said as I started picking up the broken pieces. The moment I picked up a small piece, I got hit by Mrs. Bocelli's stick. She hit my right hand so hard that the piece I was holding fell on the floor. I moaned in pain while I rubbed the backside of my hand, trying to reduce the pain.

"I said you should go!" Mrs. Bocelli growled. I stared at her for a moment, not believing the way her mood changed from one second to another.

Marija grabbed my hand and pulled me. "Have a good day, Mrs. Bocelli," she said through a forced smile.

Both Marija and I walked fast through the remaining parts of the hallway to the main door, where we collided with the same man I saw yesterday in the black car. The man was wearing a black shirt and black pants, and when he saw me, his face lighted up creepily. I stared at his long scar and wondered where he got it.

"Ladies." the man bowed his head and opened the door for us.

"Thank you," I whispered under my breath, trying to avoid the man's creepy gaze.

Marija glanced at me with fear in her eyes as we walked in quietly to the tree. We stood there in silence for a moment and watched the foreign man disappear behind the giant door.

"What do you think the man is doing here?" I asked Marija.

I walked through the rows of fresh food in the small del Garno market in the city. I watched how people buy fresh food from local farmers, and the children run around with wooden toys made from Mr. Duvalli's wooden shop. It was a peaceful and happy day. Something that I always enjoyed seeing.

I filled my basket with fresh food. It was heavy for my arms, but I enjoyed carrying it. I stopped in front of my favorite food stand, looking at beautiful vegetables from Mr. Barzzini's garden.

"Beatrice!" the old man exclaimed in excitement, lifting his hands in the air.

"Mr. Barzzini," I greeted the man with a smile on my face. He smiled back at me with his wrinkled face. Mr. Barzzini was an older man in his late 70's. He was born just outside of Toscana but moved here when he married his late wife, Loreena.

"Are you here to get some tomatoes from me? I've picked them this morning." he picked up a tomato and showed me its beautiful red color.

"I would love to get five of them," I answered, taking out my wallet.

Mr. Barzzini took out a plastic bag and placed five perfect tomatoes into it before handing me the bag. I take out four euros, giving the man.

Mr. Barzzini shook his head. "It's free for you, my dear."

I stared at him, speechless for a moment. "Thank you. Mr. Barzzini," I said.

Placing the money back into my wallet, I try to put the bag on top of the remaining vegetables without the bag falling off somewhere on the road.

"It's going to rain today," he commented.

I glanced at the sky, seeing a large black cloud hovering over the city. "I guess so. I will need to hurry If I don't want to end up wet."

"It was nice seeing you again, Beatrice," he said.

I smiled at the older man. "It was nice seeing you again, too, Mr. Barzzini."

Picking up the basket with the remaining strength, I made my way through the bunch of people that walked throughout the market. I was about to step out of the market when I suddenly felt a hand wrap around my hand. I turned around, seeing a young boy holding a bouquet full of roses. The young boy wore a white shirt, black pants, and an old black cap.

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