The light of dawn found Belinda still awake. She had tossed and turned in her sleep, until her sister's pillow forced her to remain still so she could fall asleep.
She felt tired and achy from the long internal struggle, and the conversation with the girls the previous evening hadn't resolved her doubts.
Naomi hadn't shown her enthusiasm, as she'd expected, and Annalisa had looked at her perplexed, telling her they would respect her decision.
No, they hadn't been of any help, and Belinda didn't understand them.
She didn't understand the source of her sister's sudden reserve, although she suspected she was suffering greatly from Bill's attitude toward her.
In fact, she felt very guilty and couldn't forgive herself for having let herself go: she knew full well what Naomi felt, and despite that, she hadn't avoided even the slightest involvement.
Huffing, she got out of bed, went to the bathroom, and after washing her face, put on a tracksuit and decided to go for a nice run in the nearby park to release some tension. She slipped on her shoes in silence, put her phone in her pocket, and went out.
The morning air was fresh and crisp, pleasant to smell and breathe. There were few people on the street, and Belinda reached the grassy lawn fairly quickly.
She had always enjoyed exercise, especially running, although now she spent most of her time with Naomi at the gym, where they had been practicing kickboxing for a few years. Not that they had violent instincts, but it was a very simple and relaxing way to release negative energy and, above all, to learn how to defend herself.
She put her headphones on and, after a few warm-up exercises, began to run along the track.
She continued for about twenty minutes, passing other people doing the same route as her, but without interrupting her flow of thoughts. Green Day's music couldn't ease the tension, and Belinda kept asking herself: What do I do?
The proposal was tempting, even though it didn't involve her directly involving the music or implying that she had to sing. In fact, to further tempt her, André had even mentioned compensation for her appearances and accommodations for them throughout the tour, but even that didn't help her decide.
Besides, what to say to her parents? And Annalisa's father, who hated Germans and had insisted she be home without further delay?
Maybe she could try something like: "Hey, Mom, Dad, we met Naomi's favorite German band, and they asked me to go on tour with them!" That would have been the equivalent of getting Michele on the first plane and, a few seconds later, he'd be off hunting for the band's scalp. No, that wasn't the case.
Or she could say she'd found an interesting summer job on campus... No, she couldn't lie to her own mother.
Ugh, couldn't she think of anything better?
Maybe if she'd told them the truth, maybe... Yes, but what was the truth?
"Mom, Dad, I'm attracted to that weird singer whose poster hangs in Naomi's room, the one who dresses like a Japanese cartoon character and she absolutely loves. I'm going on tour with him for a month and then... we'll each go our separate ways!"
A nice excuse, very close to reality, but truly squalid. It wasn't like her...
She had to admit that what was tormenting her wasn't the situation, seen as a work commitment, but rather the constant struggle to keep Bill and his personality from involving her, ensnaring her to the point of crushing her, leaving her alone and desperate.
She stopped to catch her breath, putting one knee on a bench to stretch.
At that moment, the phone rang, and when she answered, a sleepy voice muttered, "Where are you?"
Naomi was worried about waking up to find the bed empty, while her darkest thoughts took shape before her.
"I didn't want to wake you, but since I couldn't sleep, I came to the park for a run. I'll be back in a bit."
"Okay, but you could have left me a note, right?" she muttered.
"Sorry, I didn't think of that..."
"You have too many thoughts in that empty head." He teased her and paused for a few seconds. "Linda, I wanted to tell you... Don't think about me this time, do what your heart tells you."
She bit her nails. "Right now, it's screaming at me to run away to Lapland."
"If it makes you happy, then do it!"
Breathing more slowly, Belinda decided to express what was tormenting her.
"What do you want to do, Trilly?"
"My future isn't up for discussion."
"But what if it were up to you?" she insisted.
Naomi sighed, trying to sound more cheerful.
"Linda, I feel like I'm living a dream, and I don't want to wake up. But I don't want to see your long faces and depressed looks, so let's go to university, apply, and then go home. For me, all of this has been a wonderful adventure that I never dreamed of experiencing."
"But I'm not depressed!" she defended herself. "It's just that I don't really know if I'd like to stay, that's all."
"Is it because of Tom? You like him and you don't know how to tell him?"
"No, of course not! I like him a lot, but as a friend. For goodness sake, I couldn't fall in love with someone like him; I'd be hysterical all the time." She laughed.
"So it's because of Bill?"
"What does Bill have to do with it?" she snapped defensively.
"And don't play dumb, I've seen the way he looks at you! What, with your great intelligence, can't you tell when a guy is flirting with you? Do I have to explain it to you?" Naomi snorted.
"Don't treat me like an idiot!" Belinda got angry. "I notice he's trying to embarrass me, but I don't want to join his harem. Actually, I think he really likes you. He's very sweet to you."
"Sure, because I'm a fan of his. In fact, the number one fan, but don't misinterpret his attentions. If that's what's bothering you, just know that..." Naomi swallowed and then said as quickly as she could. "I like Tom!"
"What? Since when?" she blurted out, puzzled.
"I don't know, and don't lecture me, okay? I'm still thinking about it!" the other muttered, twirling a lock of hair around her fingers.
"Good heavens, we're both complete idiots!" Belinda burst out laughing. "And this is the most surreal conversation we've ever had. On the phone, no less!"
"Maybe because it's easier that way," her sister commented, laughing. "Listen, Linda, as soon as you finish the Berlin marathon, come back to the hotel so we can have breakfast together and talk about it, okay?"
"Okay, I love you!"
"I love you too, little one!" Naomi exclaimed and hung up.
With a lighter heart, Belinda continued running toward the park exit, analyzing the whole situation and seriously considering what to do.
As she crossed the gate, the thought occurred to her to call her mom to tell her what had happened. She looked at the clock, which read 8:30 and knew Tracy would already be awake at that time, so she opened Skype on her phone and started the video call.
Dark, blurry images, some buzzing and background noise, and then Tracy's slightly unsteady image appeared on the screen.
"Hi, Linda, why so late? Did something happen?" the woman asked with a somber tone.
"Good morning, Mom, I needed to talk to you," she replied.
She peered at her image in the dim light and smiled. How wonderful it was to see her again with the usual hair clip holding her hair back and her face free of makeup. If she'd ever appeared fresh from the hairdresser and wearing makeup, she would have suspected something was amiss in her usual daily routine.
Despite being in her forties, Tracy still had a girl's face, a sly smile, and the air of a perpetual brat, but when she got angry, she was scary: she'd stare at her with those heavy eyes like boulders and yell at her heart rate.
It was also true that when her anger passed, it was as if nothing had ever happened, and he managed to make her feel better than anyone else.
Belinda thought of his embrace and felt even more alone: she had always thought of those arms as a harbor for a small boat battered by the storm, a balm for all of life's wounds.
Tracy noticed her daughter's exhausted face. "What happened?"
"What didn't happen, I should say!"
She laughed awkwardly and began to tell her about the concert, about going on stage, about the performance, about Bill, and about the arguments with Tom.
"Um... You can't say you were bored!" the woman commented, hiding a smile.
"No!"
"And what does Bill look like up close?" she asked curiously.
"Do you remember the poster in Naomi's room?" At her nod, she continued. "Well, he's almost life-size!"
Tracy whistled. "So the 'dwarf palmetto' theory is true!"
"Mom!" she scolded her. "Don't get involved with it!"
They laughed heartily together.
The 'dwarf palmetto' theory was created by Naomi, when her sister had discredited Bill, saying he wore elevator shoes to appear taller than his brother. She was so angry, grumbling that in every family there were the normal "palms," the younger siblings—herself and Bill, who was born second—and the "dwarf palms," the eldest, Belinda and Tom, who, according to her, took all the bad chromosomes, leaving the better ones for the younger ones. Furthermore, they were also shorter.
It was her theory, but one she brought up at every opportunity to make her angry.
"What do you think you're doing?" her mother asked a few moments later.
Belinda shook her head. "I don't know... That's why I called you."
Tracy fell silent, thoughtful, and when she spoke again, she spoke seriously. "If you feel tempted to stay, do it. And don't worry about Anna's dad either. I'll talk to him, okay? If I explain the situation well, I don't think he'll object."
"If I'd presented a similar situation to you a few weeks ago, you would have bombarded me with questions and made a fuss. Why do I feel like you're hiding something from me, Mom?"
The woman sighed slowly.
"Okay, honey, I wanted to talk to you about it when you got back, and I was thinking about how to tell you, but... Linda, I wouldn't have let you come home next week. I talked to Dad about it and was thinking about joining you and then going to Tuscany, to the seaside."
"Why? What's going on?"
Tracy looked at her sadly, a thousand emotions flashing across her face.
"Alex is on provisional release. He was released yesterday morning," she announced in one breath.
Belinda felt a pang in her heart, and the dizziness that had struck her the previous morning returned. She tried to breathe deeply to avoid fainting.
"Linda, look at me!" the woman exclaimed worriedly, leaning her face closer to the camera. "Belinda, I told you to look at me!"
Slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, the girl raised her head and confessed: "He called me yesterday morning."
Tracy was alarmed. "What? What did he say to you? What did you say?"
"Nothing! Nothing, really... He didn't have time to say anything because I hung up."
"You mustn't answer, Belinda, you mustn't talk to him!" she warned, worried.
The girl smiled bitterly: her mother only called her Belinda when she was serious. Usually, she was Linda, a name chosen because it reminded her of clean air and meant "strong and courageous, she who fights injustice."
It was also the name of her paternal grandmother, to which they had added the prefix "Be" to give it a modern touch.
"I didn't look who was calling, I was lost in thought, but I have no intention of speaking to him. Hearing his voice was as if... as if the world had suddenly accelerated. It terrified me!"
"Do you want me to come get you? We're leaving for the beach right now..."
"No, no, don't worry. I feel fine and I won't give him a chance to get to me."
"I don't know what happened in court. Your father spoke to the lawyer this morning, but we don't understand the reasons for his release."
"The father's money! What did you think?" she muttered bitterly. "Did you think they'd condemn him? He's the heir to the Amati empire."
"I can't believe it's just that; justice can't be bought! We'll challenge the decree, rest assured!"
Tracy sometimes struggled to accept the Italian system, both civic and political. She was born in Germany, in charming Bavaria, where order and rules were firmly entrenched. She took injustices against the weakest very hard and became enraged whenever something went wrong, railing against politicians and judges.
"I hope so, Mom. Listen, I'll stay here for a while, waiting for some good news, okay?"
"The only thing that reassures me is that he can't leave the city. So even if he finds out where you are, he won't be able to reach you."
"This is good news, don't you think?" Belinda sighed, reassured, even though she knew how far-reaching the Amati family's economic and high-profile friendships were.
Her mother smiled sadly. "I'll send you a bank transfer, so you won't have any financial difficulties. Be careful!"
"Thank you. Although, if I take André's job, I shouldn't have any problems, since there's compensation included, on top of our accommodations," the girl reassured her.
Tracy peered at her through the screen, her heart clenching.
"Don't worry, Mom, I'll be fine!" Belinda forced a smile that seemed fake to her own eyes.
"I know, you always have, my little one! But I can't say I'm calm. I miss you girls so much..."
"We miss you too, Mom. I hope all this will soon be just a memory."
He blew her a kiss and said many sweet goodbyes until he reluctantly hung up.
With a deep sigh, he put his phone back in his pocket and continued running toward the hotel, feeling a cold sweat run down his back.
Alex was back, and he knew that not even steel bars would keep him away from her. What she feared most was the anger he had harbored throughout his time in the prison, which he could now unleash against her, both the cause and the victim of that situation.
The boy's screams still rang in her ears as he was forcibly dragged away by the police: "You will come back to me, Belinda! You can't leave me! You can't escape me! Do you understand?"
What everyone feared was that he was determined not only to have her back, but also to complete what he had been prevented from doing that distant day: killing her.
Belinda knew the boy's insane and absurd jealousy and knew that his desire to exert and assert his possession of her would never let him rest.
One day, in a neutral tone, he had decreed that she belonged to him, that she was his, and that no one could ever contradict him.
What had seemed like an exaggerated message of love had later revealed itself to be a truly fatal promise.
Alex wants me to come back to him, because I swore it. I was blind and stupid, but I didn't think he could… But it won't happen! This time I won't let him dominate me! she thought resolutely.
She zipped up her tracksuit and, with new tenacity, decided that if there was a fight to be had, this time she would do it.
Right then, she wanted to take part in the band's crazy project, and she would! But she had to dictate some conditions: only if they were accepted would she seal the deal.
Determined, she returned to the hotel.