Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

MAY 2019

Tuesday

The next morning, Tori had a quick breakfast of coffee, fruit, and cornetti— the Italian version of a croissant—in the small dining room off the hotel lobby, then went to purchase a ticket to the castle from Emilio's daughter, who was again at the front desk. She left the hotel for the piazza and arrived at the dock in time for the first ferry of the morning. Dressed in a blue sundress and comfortable tan loafers, she found a seat on a bench on the top deck. With her hair in a high ponytail, she enjoyed feeling the cool breeze on her neck and shoulders. The sun was strong, and the air smelled sweet with the scent of lavender, and as the shore grew distant, she could make out fields of poppies and sunflowers on either side of the piazza. Around her on the boat were families and groups of adults exclaiming over the vistas and pointing with excitement toward the nearing castle. She was excited, too—although she envied all these people whose trip seemed entirely for pleasure.

As the boat gained speed, she thought back to when she had traveled to Venice and Florence that summer after her junior year. She didn't remember such a view, although she was sure she must have seen the beautiful waters of the Mediterranean. But this was so different. Or maybe she was different. She was older now. She saw more. She looked ahead at the colors, the blue-green of the sea, the way the droplets sparkled and glistened as the boat caused them to spring up from the surface of the water. She saw the colors of the island in the distance, the blended tones of orange and bronze along the walls of the steep hills. The ferry veered left as it approached the island, with Parissi Castle high atop a rocky hill. It looked like it belonged in a fairy tale, and she felt transported back in time.

She reached into her shoulder bag to get her phone to take a picture, but then took out her sketchbook and a pen instead. She usually felt inclined to sketch when she was in the city, the skyscape with tall buildings suggesting angles and lines and shapes for necklines or hems or sleeves. Or she'd sketch at the beach at twilight, looking for shimmering water or glistening waves or translucent cloud formations that she could translate into trims or bows or fabric or knots. She'd never considered herself a person who loved earth tones. She wasn't much of a hiker. She worked with whites all the time, sometimes with hints of gold or pink.

But this scene triggered a different region of her brain. As the boat approached the island, she noticed something profound in the colors of the medieval-style castle and the surrounding earth. Something timeless and universal. She didn't often think about what came before or what would last after she was gone. Life moved quickly at home, as she lived in a town where shops were always changing hands or new places were opening up, capitalizing on trends in fashion, dining, or whatever. But now she was heading toward something that had been around for centuries. It made her wonder how she had come to live her very everyday life. Getting through the day to get to the next day, finishing one dress so she could get to the next—that was the rhythm of her existence. When Christmas was over, she was already thinking about spring. Was she missing something by letting life flow so quickly by?

Twenty minutes after departing, the boat reached the shore of Parissi Island, and she disembarked with the rest of the passengers. Even though the resort wasn't open to overnight guests yet, the museum had apparently received a lot of good coverage and was becoming very popular. Most of the visitors were speaking English and appeared to be American, she noticed. She left the boat and made her way over to where a small group was beginning the climb uphill. She'd read online that there was an outdoor elevator around the back, but it was very small and intended only for those who couldn't use the steps. She didn't mind though—she was glad to walk up with the other visitors. She wanted to see everything close up—the stone steps, the iron railings, the way the side of the castle would change in scope and color as the sun hit it from different directions while she ascended.

The climb was tougher than she'd expected, and soon she was out of breath. She tried to distract herself by looking at the stone stairs, which glistened in the sun like crystals. The sparkling parts had a kind of three-dimensional look, an appearance that was eye-catching and beautiful. She yearned to render it in her notebook. Keeping up with the crowd, she finally approached the top set of stairs. It opened up to a courtyard with wide square slates and several groupings of deep-green shrubs. It was charming and pretty and symmetrical. She followed the others through the huge doorway.

The lobby was airy and pleasant, the chairs and sofas sporting cool gray tones, the plate glass windows stretching from floor to ceiling. There was a strong security presence, with many guards wearing navy-blue vests with the logo of the museum imprinted where a breast pocket would be. The guards made Tori feel uncomfortable, as though she didn't belong there. And the truth was, she wasn't there merely as a sightseer, as the others were; she was searching to find someone who, by all appearances, didn't want to be found. She felt like an intruder.

She went through a metal detector and then to the information desk. There were several stations with different languages posted, and she found the one for English. She decided it made sense first to see the wedding dress before asking for the archives. She was dying to see it.

She reached the front of the line and told the woman she was looking for Giulia Sancino's wedding dress. The woman pointed to the grand circular staircase to the right. She murmured " Grazie ," and followed her instructions. At the base of the staircase she began climbing once again. The top of the stairs led to a long corridor, and she walked among the crowds, passing rooms with open doors. Inside each one, as far as she could glean, there was a display of artifacts related to a particular era in the castle's history. Ahead of her was a sign on the wall with a diagram of a gown and an arrow pointing forward and then to the left. At the corner, she made the indicated turn. A few steps ahead, she looked inside a doorway that opened into a large space that could have once been a concert hall or a ballroom, she thought. A sign hanging from the ceiling indicated that the wedding gown was straight ahead.

There were two guards standing watch near the dress, and many people gathered around it. Suddenly feeling cold and trembling, she wove her way through the crowd and toward the center display.

I'm going to see the dress my grandmother made , she thought. My grandmother who made wedding gowns like me . But even as she thought that, even as she knew that she must have inherited her passion for fabric and closures and shape from this woman, she couldn't believe it was true. Deep inside, who was this woman, this Giulia? She was even more curious than ever to know.