Enrico separates us calmly, his eyes fixed first on me, then on Fiore.
I straighten my t-shirt as if I could shake off the embarrassment gnawing at me.
Fiore clutches his collar, tense. I can read it on his face: he went too far and feels guilty.
"Uh… nothing, don't worry, Enrico. Just… a little overheating in the conversation," I say, trying to ease the tension.
"Enrico?" Fiore repeats, a new flash of anger glinting in his eyes.
"Yes, that's me. Nice to meet you. And you?" Enrico's voice remains calm, impenetrable.
Fiore puffs out his chest, arrogant. "Fiorenzo."
"Is he a friend of yours, Milo?" Enrico asks, without taking his eyes off Fiore.
I watch them sizing each other up: Fiore, a tiger ready to strike; Enrico, an immovable zen bear.
"Yes, yes… he's a friend of mine. Don't worry," I say, resting a hand on his shoulder.
I see Fiore stiffen. He glares at me and then turns away, sullen. His hands rummage in his pockets: lighter, cigarettes. He lights one, drags a puff of smoke, and walks off, exhaling sharply.
Finally, Enrico turns to me. "Everything okay? You look pale."
"Yeah… just a little shaken. What are you doing here?"
"Didn't I tell you? I live just a bit further down, on that street to the right. I was on my way to the record store and happened to see you. Here." He hands me the water bottle from his backpack. I take a sip of the cool water, catching my breath.
"And you, what are you doing here, in front of the House of Mirrors?" he asks, his eyes suddenly sparkling with excitement.
"You know this place?" I stare at him, surprised.
"Of course!" he nods energetically, almost electrified. "It's a haunted house!"
At that moment, Romina arrives, carrying three bottles of water.
"Here I am, there was a bit of a line!" She freezes when she sees me… and then Enrico. I watch as she scans him from head to toe at supersonic speed, her eyes gleaming as if she's evaluating a work of art. I smile.
"Uh, hi! And you are…?" she asks, curious.
"Enrico, nice to meet you," he replies, extending his hand with a natural smile. A tuft of golden hair falls over his eyes.
"Oh yes, Milo has told me about you! I'm Romina, pleasure to meet you," she responds, shaking his hand and then handing me a bottle of water before turning to Fiore. "Fiore, here: water."
Fiore gives a distracted nod, puts out his cigarette, and drops it into the ashtray of a nearby trash can. Then he slowly approaches, annoyance still visible on his face, and takes the bottle of water in his hand.
Ignoring Fiore's piercing gaze, I ask Enrico, "How do you know it's a haunted house?"
I secretly hope to find out whether my intuitions from yesterday were right… could Enrico be an Intuitive?
He scratches his head, a little embarrassed. "Oh, well… I'm a fan."
"A fan?" Romina asks, confused.
"Of the paranormal! Aren't you here for that too?" He looks at each of us, radiant.
"Uh… more or less?" I reply, letting out a nervous laugh.
"This house is famous, one of the most haunted in the area! I know all about it. Only a few places nearby really carry supernatural energy," he says quickly, his hands gesturing wildly.
"Anyway, it gives me chills. I always walk under the portico, never in front of the main door. Feels like it could open up and swallow me if I get too close. Once I swear I saw a face in the marble circles… goosebumps!" He continues, excited, then bursts out laughing.
If we hadn't just experienced that exact same anxiety a moment ago, I'd probably be laughing with him: Enrico, leather-jacketed metalhead with ripped jeans, excited like a child talking about ghosts.
Another surprise about him to add to the list.
Then, suddenly, an idea pops into my head.
"Enrico! Do you happen to know if there are any younger ghosts around here?"
"What do you mean?" Fiore jumps into the conversation, puzzled.
"Ghosts of people who died more recently. Recent, like early 1930s."
Fiore looks at me, confused, but I give him a "I'll explain later" look.
Enrico scratches his chin, thoughtful. "Not around here, not that I know of. But in Rovigo, yes."
-
After the misadventure at the House of Mirrors and the unexpected meeting with Enrico, we headed back to Fiore's place. Despite the heat, a lingering chill still clung to me, so a little thermal water sounded like exactly what I needed.
On the way back, I told Romina and Fiore everything that had happened in the House: how, apparently, I had no trouble because I can channel the voices of ghosts, and how the sad lady suggested finding spirits of people who had died more recently.
That's why I thought to ask Enrico for advice: he explained to us that among paranormal enthusiasts, there's an interesting ghost story about the former Psychiatric Hospital of Granzette, near Rovigo. They say the Nazis hid an invaluable treasure there—chests full of gold, sacred writings, and relics—kept somewhere within the walls of the property and never recovered.
I thought maybe one of the sacred writings could be the Heptameron; the timeframe roughly matches when the Book disappeared. A bold guess, but worth trying.
I also explained my dream in detail, sharing what it means to me: a reworking by my mind of my awakening powers.
Fiore didn't seem entirely convinced, but he didn't comment.
"So, the next step is breaking into an abandoned asylum in search of another ghost? Isn't that a bit early for Halloween, or am I wrong?" Romina asks, shivering at the thought.
"Yeah… it doesn't exactly thrill me either, but at the moment I have no other leads," I reply, rubbing my wet hair with a towel and sinking into the sofa in Fiore's enchanted little living room. I'm feeling much better now.
"What do you think, Fiore?" I ask him.
He's standing next to Romina, lost in thought.
"Actually, it's a good idea. We'll have to be a bit more prepared, though… like bringing earplugs," he says with a half-smile. Then he moves onto the sofa, right next to me.
The air between us feels noticeably lighter now.
I genuinely feel bad about how the argument went earlier; it could have been handled differently. And I sense that even Fiore, in some way, is more open to dialogue now—at least judging by his gestures.
As if reading my thoughts, Romina gets up from the chair she had sunk into and says, "It's decided then. I'm going to take a little bath too, why not."
She grabs a towel and disappears among the trees.
Fiore and I remain in silence, while the afternoon sun stretches lazily around us. He stares at the ground, a little bitter.
"Fiore…" I start softly, a thread of anxiety in my voice. "C-can we talk a bit? Would you like that?"
He nods. He lifts his gaze and, with an almost choked voice, admits, "Sorry. I acted like an asshole."
The simplicity of his words catches me off guard, and a smile slips out. The tension eases a little. "Yeah… I wasn't exactly stellar either. Sorry."
He slowly moves closer and rests his head on my shoulder. My stomach flips and my ears warm.
"And sorry if… I haven't told you everything yet. Your questions are legitimate. But there are things that… are complicated for me to say," he continues.
My heart pounds. What's happening? Does he need reassurance? Or is he just embarrassed and doesn't want to show his face?
"D-don't worry. I understand… You don't have to tell me everything if you can't or don't want to," I reply, glancing away, trying to hide how fast my heart is pounding. "I didn't mean to pressure you earlier."
Fiore straightens slightly. "Me neither. Really, believe me. Even last night, I didn't want to be so damn insistent. Of course, you're free to do whatever you want—it wouldn't make sense otherwise. But… I felt awful. I was… furious. I went for a long walk afterward because I couldn't sleep. And earlier, I honestly don't know why I reacted the way I did. It's like… something inside me just exploded. I don't understand."
He clasps his hands in front of him, staring into the void. "I didn't mean to scare you…" He adds, his voice thin and sad. "I would never hurt you. I hope you know that…"
I place a hand over his and look him in the eyes. "Fiore… I know. You've done nothing but help me. Don't even think for a second that I'd believe you could hurt me."
He studies me intensely, his expression unreadable.
And suddenly, I sense a black abyss inside him, filled with suffering. The darkness is so deep it makes me dizzy, as if I'm standing on the edge of a cliff.
Fiore carries an immense pain.
I feel it, I sense it. I live it. And it's agony.
Instinctively, I pull him into a hug, my breath catching. He lets me, gentle, soft, and unresisting.
What happened to you, Fiore?
Why do you carry so much hidden sadness in the depths of your soul?
.END OF SEASON ONE