It had been four years since my last visit. I was sitting in the park, catching up on old times with Walter, when I saw her across the way.

She was as beautiful as ever. But that lingering sadness was still there.

“Go up and say hello!” Walter prodded.

So I slowly circled the park, careful not to let her see me. No one had told her I was in town. She was leaning over the stone fence, perched like a sparrow, ready to fly away. A panorama of a dozen mountain villages spread before her – her mind far, far away.

Now, just behind her, I whispered: “Da quanto tempo?”

Startled, she turned and saw me for what seemed like the first time. Her eyes grew wide, the sadness melted away, a slight smile (one of the few she’d made) appeared on her face.