Chapter 16 CHAPTER 14 Pola Di Candi's Apartment

"keep the change." "You are so generous. Thank you for the tip." Paula ignored the driver's humor.She is used to this kind of ridicule from the drivers in Rome. Sometimes the driver will insult the customers by saying harsh words because they think the tip is too small, such as only sixty cents.In lira, sixty cents would be enough, and that's a lot.absolute.Before Paula got out of the station, the driver couldn't wait to step on the gas pedal and run away.If you were a gentleman, you'd have to wait for Paula to come in.It's 2 o'clock in the morning and there isn't even a ghost on the street, really!

It was warm now, but Paula still shivered as she opened the door.Is there a figure on the street corner?No, it's all in my imagination.She was sure she was wrong. When she entered the building, she immediately closed the door, feeling that it was shameful for her to be so timid.She turned on three lights, and the wooden stairs creaked with each step, but she barely heard them because her ears were bloodshot and she was out of breath by the time she reached the door of her own house.As soon as she got to the door, she stopped and stayed there. The door of her house was ajar. Slowly and carefully, Paula unbuttoned her jacket and put her right hand inside.She drew her gun and crouched, her elbows at an angle to her body.Pushing the door open with one hand, Paula walked in slowly.The hall lights were on.She took a cautious step forward, then stepped away from the gate, pointing the gun straight ahead.

nothing. "Pola?" "Mother?" "Come in, I'm in the kitchen!" Paula took a deep breath and put the gun back in its holster.In reality, this was the first time she had pulled out a gun.Except when studying at the FBI's academy.But the current case really made her nervous. Lucrezia Di Candi is buttering biscuits in the kitchen.The hum of the microwave stopped, and she opened the door to take out two cups of steaming milk.She put them on a plastic-covered table.Paula glanced around, her heart still beating wildly.Everything is as it is: a small plastic pig with a small wooden spoon sticking out of its back, and a brightly colored painting on the wall that I put up with my mother.There was a smell of spices in the air, and Paula guessed that Mama must have made cannoli, but she must have eaten them all before she made cookies for herself.

"Have some, and I'll add more butter if you like." "God, Mom, you almost scared me to death. Can you tell me why you don't close the door?" Paula was almost shouting.Mom looked at her with worry written all over her face.Lukerizia took out a tissue from her apron pocket and wiped her fingers, wiping the butter off. "I woke up, on the balcony listening to the outside. All Rome seemed to be spinning, trying to figure out who was going to be the next pope. It was all on the radio, nothing else. I figured I'd wait You, then I saw you get out of the taxi. Sorry."

Immediately, Paula felt ashamed and apologized to her mother. "Relax, kid, have some biscuits." "thanks Mom." Paula sat beside her mother, who never took her eyes off her daughter.Since Pola was a little girl, Lukrezia tried her best to detect her daughter's whereabouts and difficulties, and then tried her best to give suggestions to help Pola.But now the problems in her daughter's head are too heavy and complicated, she can't figure out what's going on, and she can't help if she wants to. "Are you having trouble at work?" "You know what I can't say."

"I know. I also know that when you have that look on your face, like someone stepped on you, you'll be fidgeting all night. Are you sure you can't tell me something?" Paula stared at the glass of milk on the table, added sugar spoonful by spoon, and said, "It's just...involved in another case. Mom, the perpetrator is completely crazy. I'm like this glass of milk now. Stir in it with a spoon. The sugar in it never dissolves, and eventually flows out." Lukeria put her hand gently on the cup, and Paula poured a spoonful of sugar into her mother's hand.

"Sometimes it makes you feel better to talk about it." "I can't, Mom, I'm sorry." "It's okay, my little pigeon. I understand. Do you want more biscuits? I know you haven't eaten anything." Lukrezia knows that sometimes changing the subject can be an adjustment. "Don't eat, Mom, that's enough. My breakfast is full." "My daughter happens to have an amazing big ass." "That's right, so I'm still single." "No, Paula, you're still single because you have a bad temper. You're beautiful, you take care of yourself, you go to the gym a lot... it's just a matter of time, and you'll meet the right guy who won't be Your loud voice and sagging face scare you away."

"That's impossible, mother." "Why? How's your boss? He's charming." "He's married. He's too old, like my dad." "You'll exaggerate. Bring him to me and you'll see I won't scare him away. Besides, marriage isn't as important in the world now as it used to be." "Mom! Sometimes you can really knock me down!" "I haven't missed a day since your father left us ten years ago. But I still don't feel like those Sicilian widows who wear black robes all day, cover themselves from head to toe, and bury their hearts In her husband's grave. Come on, have another biscuit and we'll go to bed!"

Paula took another biscuit and dipped it in the milk, counting the calories in her head, feeling guilty.But fortunately, this feeling is fleeting.