Stella (Book One of Dark Souls Series)

Sfogliatella

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chiesa- a building used for the Christian religion
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"Have you thought about some things you would like to do for your birthday?"

I looked at my daughter to see her frowning at her apple slices. She often did that when in deep thought. A drip of caramel was on her chin which caused me to grin.

"Non lo so," she mumbled, picking at her food. I scooted closer to her.

"What is wrong?"

Her doe eyes met mine before she sighed. "I haven't made any friends yet."

I looked around the huge cafeteria to see children running around with their friends. Some children, like Eva, were eating with their parents.

"Where is Mario?"

She shrugged and looked down.

"Have you tried to make friends?"

She shook her head but never looked at me.

"Why not?"

"What if they are mean?"

I grabbed her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Eva, you are smart and beautiful. You are the most talented dancer I know. If you let them see what I see, no one will be mean to you."

"You're supposed to say that," she mumbled, unconvinced.

I frowned. "That is because it is true. Mario seems to like you. Have you met his friends?"

"No." Her eyes flicked about the room.

It was only her first week of school. I could tell she was shy. That is why she did not want to approach other people.

It was my second time being at this school. The first time, we had a conference with the headmaster. This time, I wanted to see her. I also knew Adonis would not be able to ambush, so I had her to myself.

"Adonis sta arrivando?"

I knew it would not be long before she asked about him.

"He is not," I answered. "He's getting off of work late, so it is just us tonight."

Her frown disappeared into a wide split grin. "Can we watch movies?"

I grinned and nodded. "Of course, we can! We can have pizza if you would like."

She wiggled in her seat as she tried to conceal her excitement in front of all of these people.

I smiled.

After lunch, I walked her to her class. She immediately spotted Mario.

"Ciao, mamma."

I blinked in shock as she walked away from me.

"Crescono in fretta, giusto."

I turned around to see a blond-haired lady watching me from across the hall. I cringed at the cigarette she was smoking. There was no way they let her into the school. This was a non-smoking establishment.

"I am Martina."

Martina was tall and slim. Her light hair framed her sharp-featured face perfectly.

To be cliché, she resembled the ladies from the catalogs. Her restless lean against the wall gave me the impression she was modeling her outfit. She wore a pair of dark brown trousers. A thin, mint green button-down was tucked in her pants. Her clothes were tailored and pressed to near perfection. A dark brown blazer hung from her bony shoulders. It wasn't a color often worn in Italy.