Whispers In Florence

Chapter 11: A Day in Florence

Isabella POV

I couldn't stop thinking about the argument I had with Ana. She was so rude to me, and I didn't understand why. I kept my head down and focused on scrubbing dishes, trying to block out the negative feelings.

Just then, the kitchen door opened, and Pietra walked in with a smile. "Good morning, Isabella!" she said cheerfully.

"Good morning, Pietra," I replied, forcing a smile.

Pietra noticed something was off. "What's wrong? You look upset."

I hesitated, unsure if I should say anything. "It's Ana. She's been... unfriendly."

Pietra frowned. "What happened?"

"She accused me of things I didn't do," I whispered. "She was really rude and said some hurtful things."

Pietra sighed. "Ana has always had a bad attitude toward new maids. She probably sees you as competition or just takes out her frustrations on you."

"I just don't understand why she has to be so mean," I said, feeling my throat tighten.

"Ignore her, Isabella. Focus on doing your job well, and don't let her get to you," Pietra advised, gently touching my shoulder.

"Thanks, Pietra. I'll try," I said, feeling a little better.

As the hours passed, I got lost in my work. When our 15-minute break came, I found a quiet spot to eat my small lunch alone. But soon, someone sat next to me. I turned and saw a girl my age with a friendly smile.

"Hi, I'm Benedetta. Mind if I sit here? I feel a bit lonely," she said.

"Of course not," I smiled back. "I'm Isabella."

"It's nice to meet you, Isabella," she said. "I'm 16 and from a small village in Sicily called Castellamare."

"I'm 14, from a village near Rome called Monteverde," I shared. "It's been tough getting here."

Benedetta looked concerned. "What happened?"

"My family's been struggling since we lost my father," I explained. "Then I lost my two siblings, so now I work here to help my mother and sister, Vittoria."

Benedetta gave me a hug. "I'm so sorry. That must be so hard."

"Thank you," I said, feeling a little lighter. "But I have to be strong for them."

"You're very brave, Isabella," she said. "If you ever need a friend, I'm here."

We continued talking, sharing stories about our homes and families. Over the next few days, we grew closer and became like sisters. We supported each other through our daily challenges, and Benedetta's positive energy made everything easier.

One afternoon while we were scrubbing pots, Benedetta asked, "Isabella, have you ever thought about what you want for the future?"

I paused, thinking. "I don't know. Right now, I'm just focused on helping my family."

Benedetta nodded. "I understand. But we should still dream, shouldn't we? Even if things are tough, we deserve to hope for something better."

Her words sparked something in me. "You're right. We do deserve to dream."

As the weeks passed, our friendship grew stronger. We shared our hopes and fears, supporting each other through the difficulties at the Castellini house. We became more than friends—we became family.

Still, I felt like something was brewing in the house, some kind of tension that seemed to grow every day. I knew this was just the beginning.

One evening, after finishing our work, Benedetta turned to me seriously. "Isabella, promise me we'll always look out for each other, no matter what happens."