Nonna Anna's stay in Richmond was intended to last an entire month, but fate—as was often the case in the history of Belinda's family—had other plans. It was a rainy evening, and the school's "castle" appeared even more imposing under the flashes of lightning that tore through the London sky.
Anna was helping Azzurra sew the ribbons onto a pair of new pointe shoes when her mobile phone—an old model she always kept with the ringer on maximum volume—began to ring insistently. It was Belinda.
Anna moved toward the window, but Azzurra, with her hearing sharpened by dance, managed to sense the tension in her mother's voice. "Anna, you have to come back. Now," Belinda said. Her voice wasn't frightened, but it was charged with an urgency that allowed for no rebuttal.
"What happened, Belinda? Is it the villa? Is Elia alright?" Anna asked, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the phone.
"The reconstruction of the Sant'Alessio pier... there was a collapse during the fund's work. No one is seriously injured, thank God, but the situation is critical. People are afraid; they're saying the 'Draunara' has returned to reclaim the sea. The fund is under media and bureaucratic attack. I need you to manage the volunteers' canteen and to help me with the families. Elia is overwhelmed. I need your strength, Anna."
Nonna Anna closed her eyes for a moment. She looked at Azzurra, who was watching her with wide eyes from the center of the room. Oliver and Maya had just stopped by to say goodbye, but they lingered at the door, sensing the electricity in the air.
"I understand, Belinda. I'll take the first flight out of Gatwick tomorrow morning. Don't worry. We'll put everything in order."
When Anna hung up, the silence in the Richmond bedroom became heavy. Azzurra rose slowly. "You have to leave, don't you, Nonna? Something bad happened back home."
Anna approached and took her face in her hands. "Your mother needs me, my little one. Sicily is a land that bites, and sometimes you have to go back to remind her who's in charge. But you mustn't be afraid. You stay here. Stay in your castle, with Oliver and Maya. You must keep shining, because your light reaches us, even if you can't see it."
The news of Anna's sudden departure shook the equilibrium of the household. Erica tried to convince Anna to stay, offering to send even more substantial financial aid to Messina just to avoid depriving Azzurra of that family bond. "Anna, I can sign another check. I can send a team of experts from here. Don't go; Azzurra has only just found her serenity again thanks to your presence."
But Anna was irremovibile. "Erica, there are things money cannot fix. Mud is cleaned with hands, not with a pen. Belinda is alone in this battle, and I am the only one who can stand beside her without being crushed by the shadows."
The next morning, in front of the school gate, the goodbye was heart-wrenching. Oliver and Maya were there at the edge of the road, like a silent guard of honor. Azzurra hugged her grandmother with desperate strength. "Tell Mama I wish I could be there. Tell her Alfio's pendant is always with me."
"She knows, Azzurra. She knows well," Anna whispered, stepping into the taxi.
As the car pulled away toward the airport, Azzurra stood motionless under the thin London rain. She felt the distance between the two worlds becoming abyssal once again. On one side was the castle, the dance, and Oliver brushing her hand to comfort her; on the other was the mud, the collapse of the pier, and her mother fighting against ghosts that Erica's English logic would never understand.
"Let's go, Azzurra," Maya said gently, taking her arm. "We have to go to the studio. Mrs. Bennett is waiting for us for the Christmas ballet rehearsals."
Azzurra nodded, but as she walked toward the entrance of the manor, she felt a shiver. "Samuele's Beacon" was wavering in Sicily, and thousands of miles away, she knew her lightheartedness was over. The sentinel had gone, taking with her the final report for Belinda: Azzurra is ready, but the darkness has not yet stopped searching for her.
Entering the dance studio, Azzurra did not look at the mirror. She looked at Oliver, who was smiling at her with a mixture of concern and devotion. She took her position in the center of the room. If Sicily was collapsing, she would dance so hard that she would keep the world standing.