The Girl With the Botticelli Eyes
“But the air she breathed gave off a close, rank smell. When she inhaled, she felt a stinging in her nose and mouth. Behind her, she could hear the soughing of a clammy wind pouring through a hole somewhere.
Then she remembered.
First Borghini, then the boy. Then the big glass case, three sides of it encompassed by a scene of medieval Tuscany, and opposite her in a loose white gown, a dead, smiling Aldo Pettigrilli, extending an apple toward her. At the memory of it, a bubble of sour chyme rose in her throat, along with the nagging doubt whether she’d actually seen it.
She had no idea where she was, nor any recollection of how she’d gotten there. It appeared to be a cellar, a rather large one, and she was lying on a cot that smelled faintly of cheese. Attempting to rise, she discovered that she was strapped to the cot by what felt like heavy leather restraints—belts, no doubt, three of them. One was wound around her ankles, one across her chest, and one girded so tightly over the abdom...en, it made breathing difficult.MoreLess
Then she remembered.
First Borghini, then the boy. Then the big glass case, three sides of it encompassed by a scene of medieval Tuscany, and opposite her in a loose white gown, a dead, smiling Aldo Pettigrilli, extending an apple toward her. At the memory of it, a bubble of sour chyme rose in her throat, along with the nagging doubt whether she’d actually seen it.
She had no idea where she was, nor any recollection of how she’d gotten there. It appeared to be a cellar, a rather large one, and she was lying on a cot that smelled faintly of cheese. Attempting to rise, she discovered that she was strapped to the cot by what felt like heavy leather restraints—belts, no doubt, three of them. One was wound around her ankles, one across her chest, and one girded so tightly over the abdom...en, it made breathing difficult.MoreLess
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