The summer of 1948 bathed the Tuscan countryside in a golden haze. Clara Rossi stood at the edge of her family’s olive grove, her fingers brushing the rough bark of an ancient tree. At twenty-two, Clara was the heart of the Rossi estate, her laughter as much a part of the land as the cicadas’ song. But today, her brow was furrowed, her hazel eyes fixed on a letter clutched in her hand.

The letter had arrived that morning, its edges worn, the postmark from Naples. It bore no return address, only a name: Luca Moretti. Clara’s heart had leaped at the sight of it, though she hadn’t heard from Luca in three years—not since he’d left for the war, promising to return to her. She had waited, her hope dwindling with each passing season, until she’d forced herself to believe he was gone forever.

Now, the letter trembled in her hands. She tore it open, her breath catching as she read:

My dearest Clara,

I am alive. I have been a prisoner of my own making, but I am coming back to you. Meet me at the old stone bridge at dusk, three days from now. I have so much to explain.

Yours, always,

Luca

Clara pressed the letter to her chest, her mind racing. Luca, alive? The boy who had carved their initials into the olive tree behind her, who had kissed her under the stars, was coming back. But why now? And what did he mean by “a prisoner of my own making”?

The grove seemed to hum with secrets, the leaves whispering in the breeze. Clara glanced at the horizon, where the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the rolling hills. She thought of her father, Giovanni, who had forbidden her from speaking Luca’s name after he’d left. “He’s a dreamer, Clara,” Giovanni had said. “He’ll break your heart.” And her brother, Matteo, who had once called Luca a brother, had turned cold at the mention of him.

As dusk settled, Clara made her decision. She would go to the bridge. She had to know the truth.

That night, she lay awake, the letter hidden beneath her pillow. She imagined Luca’s face—his dark curls, his warm brown eyes, the way his smile could unravel her defenses. But three years was a long time. War changed people. What if the Luca who returned was a stranger?

Chapter 1: The Letter

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