Twilight: Darling of Volturi (YURI/GL)

Before coming to Italy, Sophie had never imagined that this debt-collecting trip would become entangled with death.

She had trusted the wrong person and been deceived by someone she once considered a close friend. But that was, at most, emotional betrayal. Who hadn’t encountered a few scoundrels in life?

Fortunately, Sophie still had friends she could truly rely on. They had pooled their money together to buy her plane ticket to Italy. Once she recovered the debt, or earned enough through odd jobs, she would pay every cent back.

Sooner or later.

While checking her bank balance, Sophie transferred the money she owed. She repaid her friends for the airfare in one lump sum. As an extra gesture of gratitude, she also purchased gift cards worth the same amount as each plane ticket. Those gifts would reach her friends even sooner than she could return home herself.

Having money in her pocket felt wonderful.

Spending it on the right people felt even better.

Before heading to the police station, Sophie hesitated for quite a while.

This was completely unfamiliar territory for her. Aside from withdrawing a large amount of cash from the ATM, she couldn’t think of any strategy.

Maybe bringing more money will come in handy.

Sophie believed that with blind confidence.

Unfortunately...

She had miscalculated.

”I’m sorry, miss. Only immediate family members can claim the body, as well as any compensation.”

The officer receiving her had clearly misunderstood her intentions. Seeing that Sophie was still quite young, he refused her request politely rather than harshly.

Sophie hurriedly explained, ”You’ve misunderstood! I don’t want the compensation. One of the victims really was my friend. I have photographs of us together. We took pictures.”

”A photograph together isn’t proof,” the officer replied sincerely. ”Besides, I can’t search through a pile of burned bodies just to find your friend.”

After a brief pause, he added gently, ”Trust me. Burned bodies aren’t something anyone should see. If your friend cared about her appearance while she was alive, she’d probably want the people who loved her to remember her at her best.”

Sophie fell silent.

If she imagined things from Irene’s perspective, she really would think that way.

The lingering friendship she still felt for Irene wavered under the officer’s words.

Sophie was only an ordinary university student in her early twenties. She had little life experience, and even less experience dealing with public institutions. The qualities she had once been proud of, curiosity, determination, and the desire to uncover the truth, proved utterly useless here.

A seasoned adult had identified her weakness in only a few sentences and effortlessly persuaded her to leave. Even the thick stack of banknotes filling her wallet failed to give her any additional sense of security.

Back beneath the sunlight, Sophie slowly raised her head.

For the first time...

She looked directly into the warm sun.

The mountain breeze brushed gently across her face. A tiny droplet slipped unnoticed down her cheek before disappearing into the collar of her cotton shirt, leaving behind a small dark stain where the fabric absorbed the moisture.

A wooden vendor’s cart rolled across the cobblestone street with a soft clatter, clatter. Sophie recognized its design. It looked just like the empty carts she had seen crammed into the narrow alleys earlier that morning. Only now, instead of sitting empty, this one overflowed with fresh flowers. It had become a flower cart.

The vendor was pushing it toward the busiest part of the city without any intention of stopping.

Suddenly, a thought came to Sophie.

She’ll live on... in another way.

”Wait!” she called after the cart.

The flower vendor was accustomed to doing business with tourists. He immediately realized he had a customer.

There was an old superstition among merchants. The first sale of the day had to succeed. Otherwise, business would be unlucky for the rest of the day.

He promptly stopped and greeted her enthusiastically.

”Flowers, beautiful lady?”

He even bent slightly at the knees to lower himself to Sophie’s height. Italian men were famous for their sweet words, not just in Europe. 

Within moments, the vendor had assembled several bouquets for Sophie, each accompanied by another effortless compliment. His charming words were almost impossible to resist. Sophie laughed more than once.

But buying flowers under these circumstances hardly felt appropriate. She quickly selected the simplest, most elegant bouquet, paid without hesitation, and immediately set off toward the outskirts of the city.

If she couldn’t see Irene one last time, then she would bring flowers to the place where she had died.

At last...

Money has become useful.

The unlicensed taxi driver accepted Sophie’s payment without hesitation and confidently promised to take her directly to the accident site. His agreement came so readily that Sophie became suspicious instead.

”You know where the accident happened? Hasn’t the police blocked off the area?”

The driver still wanted to wait for two more passengers. Lighting a cigarette, he leisurely took a drag before answering.

”There’s only one road to Florence. That mountain pass sees a few accidents every single year. They’ve put up warning signs all along the road.”

He snorted.

”Doesn’t help one bit.”

The accident rate sounded alarmingly high.

”But everything online says traffic accidents around Volterra are rare.”

”That stretch is outside the city limits.”

The driver grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellowed teeth.

”But don’t worry. The crashes are always buses. Small cars like mine are perfectly safe. I’ll never drive over the guardrail. Bus drivers can’t smoke to stay awake. They’re the ones who fall asleep behind the wheel.”

Sophie certainly believed this yellow-toothed driver had never driven off the mountain road. The winding highway hugged sheer cliffs. Anyone who fell over the edge would either die...

Or wish they had.

Before the suffocating cigarette smoke inside the car became unbearable, they finally picked up two male backpackers. The men spent several more minutes bargaining over the fare. With their limited travel budgets, Sophie understood completely.

But the bouquet resting in her lap had already begun losing moisture. If they delayed much longer, the flowers would wilt. Unable to help herself, she urged the driver to leave several times before the car finally started.

The two adult men climbed into the back seat, making the cramped interior feel noticeably warmer. Sophie remained in the front passenger seat.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, she noticed that one of the backpackers was wearing a black shirt. The sight unexpectedly reminded her of someone else.

The driver, dressed in black, who had been on Irene’s tour bus.

Sophie lowered her eyes guiltily toward the bouquet in her lap.

She had almost forgotten about him.

She should have bought another bouquet.

Through the rearview mirror, the palace overlooking the city from the mountainside gradually receded into the distance. Sophie found herself thinking once more about yesterday’s encounter.

She had planned to buy a ticket and properly tour the palace.

Unfortunately...

Now was hardly the right time.

Perhaps someday...

When the memories Irene left behind had finally faded...

When she herself had found peace...

She would return here with a lighter heart.

As that thought crossed her mind, Sophie experienced a strange illusion. It seemed as though her memories had already begun to blur.

The driver in black.

The beautiful tour guide.

The blonde girl.

Even the face that had lingered in her dreams...

It was becoming indistinct.

That’s good.

Maybe soon I’ll forget everything...

And then I’ll be able to come back to Volterra.