Chapter 64 Chapter 63

Barry stood beside me, gazing at the mess, but he was quicker than I was to spot something I hadn't noticed—papers and books on the bed: a copy of Bram Stoker's Draco La, dilapidated, a new history of medieval paganism in the south of France, an ancient book on the European tradition of vampires. There are papers in the middle of the book, which are the notes he made by himself, and there are also a bunch of scattered postcards. Sometimes a postcard says four or five things, and they are all neatly marked with numbers. The most astonishing thing was that every letter was signed "Helen Rossi" and addressed to me.

my beloved daughter: In what language should I write to you?I have missed so much these five years, and I find it hard to believe that I just started writing to you today and have to stop. love you mom, helen rossey May 1962 The second is in color - "Gardens of Boboli, in Florence, Italy. - Boboli". my beloved daughter: I'll let you in on a secret: Romanian is the language of the devil I'm looking for.For me though, that doesn't make me hate the language at all. If you were sitting on my lap this morning looking out at the garden, I would give you my first lesson: "Ma numesc..." It's your mother tongue too I'll tell you the beautiful things she told me, village The stars above, "Ma numesc..."

If I can tell you this one day, I will feel extremely happy. love you mom, helen rossey May 1962 Barry and I looked into each other's eyes as he wrapped his arms around my neck tenderly.