The feeling did not leave.
Chiara walked beside Matteo, her steps steady, her hands occupied with the weight he had insisted on sharing only halfway.
“You could have carried more,” she said.
“I am carrying enough,” Matteo replied dramatically.
“This is already a tragedy.”
She ignored him.
Because her mind was elsewhere.
Still.
Back on that street.
On him.
Those eyes.
That presence.
“…Chiara?”
She blinked, refocusing.
“Yes.”
“You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s never a good sign.”
She shot him a look.
Matteo grinned.
But even he noticed—
Something had shifted.
***
By midday, the archive had settled into its quiet rhythm.
Dust floated lazily in beams of light that cut through the tall windows.
Shelves stood heavy with records, their weight almost… alive.
Adriano worked in silence.
Sorting.
Organizing.
Reading names that meant nothing—
And somehow felt like they should.
Each page he touched felt slightly different.
Not physically, but something beneath it.
Like memory pressed too deep.
Tomaso leaned over a table nearby, watching him with restless curiosity.
“You’re boring again,” he declared.
Adriano didn’t look up.
“You said that already.”
“Yes, but now I’m confirming it.”
A pause.
Then Tomaso reached over suddenly, trying to grab a loose sheet from Adriano’s hand.
Adriano caught his wrist easily.
Without force.
Without looking.
Tomaso blinked.
“…how did you—”
Adriano released him, glancing at him briefly.
“Sit.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Then stand quietly.”
“I don’t want to do that either.”
Adriano exhaled softly.
Then—
Very lightly—
He reached out and ruffled Tomaso’s hair.
The boy froze.
Offended.
“…I’m not a child.”
“You are.”
Tomaso frowned.
“…fratello maggiore,” he muttered.
Adriano almost smiled again.
Across the room, Sofia watched.
Not hiding it this time, because there it was again—
That feeling.
Every time he moved.
Every time he touched something.
The air shifted.
Just slightly.
Elio noticed it too.
But he said nothing.
***
Outside the courtyard, Chiara stood with Marco after successfully getting everything inside without having to listen to any more of Matteos complains.
The air between them carried something sharper than usual as they stood side by side.
“And what might I ask brought you here today?” Chiara says looking straight ahead.
“Can’t I come here?”, looking down at her to his left.
“Well you can, but I don’t think you have a reason to, except if the town were to be on fire,” she says walking a little further away from him, “which I know you would handle pretty well.”
Turning back to him.
Marco nods having no expression on his face.
Chiara didn’t look at him.
“And?”
Marco’s jaw tightened slightly.
“And?”, he says repeating.
“So what? He’s new around here, probably trying to make friends.”
“That’s not how it looked.”
Chiara looked at him then, her gaze calm but firm.
“I had a conversation.”
“With a stranger.”
“With someone new.”
“There’s a difference.”
“Not to me.”
Marco stepped closer.
“There should be.”
Chiara held his gaze.
“And why is that?”
A pause.
Then—
“Because we don’t know who he is,” Marco said.
His tone shifted.
Lower.
More serious.
“And yet everyone seems… comfortable.”
Chiara’s expression didn’t change.
“Maybe because he’s given them no reason not to be.”
Marco let out a quiet breath.
“…or maybe they’re not paying attention.”
Chiara tilted her head slightly.
“Or maybe you’re seeing something that isn’t there.”
His eyes narrowed.
“I don’t like him.”
There it was.
Simple.
Honest.
Chiara studied him for a moment.
Then—
“That sounds like your problem.”
Marco scoffed.
“…sei incredibile.”
You’re unbelievable.
“And you’re predictable,” she replied calmly.
That hit.
And they both knew it.
***
The sun had softened again by the time Adriano stepped outside the archive.
Tomaso followed closely behind.
“Elio said you work too quietly,” the boy said.
“Elio talks too much.”
“He doesn’t.”
Adriano glanced at him.
Tomaso shrugged.
“Okay, sometimes.”
They turned the corner—
And ran straight into Matteo.
“Ah!” Matteo said.
“Perfect timing.”
He shifted the weight of something in his arms.
“Help me carry this?”
Adriano didn’t hesitate.
He took part of the load easily.
Matteo blinked.
“…you’re stronger than you look.”
Adriano said nothing.
Which Matteo seemed to like.
“Although, I haven’t seen you around here before. You’re new, right?”
“Yes.” Adriano replied plainly.
“I’m Matteo,” he added.
“I know.”
Matteo paused.
“…good.”
A small grin.
“I like you already.”
Luca approached quietly from the side.
As always.
Unnoticed until he chose not to be.
His gaze moved to Adriano.
Still.
Focused. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Something in the air changed again.
The ground beneath them—
Subtle.
But present.
“…you feel that?” Luca asked quietly.
Matteo frowned.
“Feel what?” Adriano asks looking slightly confused.
Luca didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes remained on Adriano.
“…nothing,” he said finally.
But it wasn’t nothing.
Adriano shifted slightly.
Not uncomfortable.
But aware.
For a moment—
It felt like something beneath him was listening.
Then it stopped.
“Do not mind my friend Luca here, he’s always feeling something,” Matteo said casually, clapping Adriano lightly on the shoulder.
Adriano glanced at him.
Matteo grinned.
“Welcome to Valdoro, amico.”
Friend.
For the first time—
Something settled in Adriano.
Small.
But real.
Like maybe—
He could belong here.
***
Not far away, Marco watched from a distance.
Unmoved.
Unconvinced.
Giulia walks and stands beside him, arms crossed, tracing his eyes to their direction and a smirk already forming.
“Oh, look at that,” she said.
“They made a new friend.”
Marco didn’t respond.
“He’s fitting in nicely.”
Silence.
Giulia tilted her head.
“…you don’t like that.”
“I don’t trust it.”
She laughed lightly.
“Of course you don’t.”
Marco’s gaze remained fixed.
“There’s something wrong.”
Giulia stepped closer.
Lowered her voice.
“…or maybe,” she said, “you just don’t like that he might get close to Chiara.”
Marco turned sharply.
“That’s not it.”
“I saw you glaring at them this morning while they talked, so sure you….”
“Giulia—” he cuts her off.
“You’re jealous.”
“I’m not.”
“Sei sicuro?”
Are you sure?
Marco said nothing.
Because for a moment—
Even he wasn’t sure.
***
By evening, the sky dimmed slowly over Valdoro.
The town settled.
Quiet again.
But not still.
Never still.
Somewhere between the streets and the shadows—
Something shifted.
Because the world didn’t stay the same.
Not the fire.
Not the wind.
Not the earth.
Not even the silence.
And though no one could name it yet—
They all felt it.
Le ombre stanno diventando più pesanti.
The shadows are growing heavier.