Chapter 1 — The Winter Exhibit
Florence was grey that December, the air sharp with river mist and the metallic scent of rain. Inside the Uffizi’s restoration wing, Elia Carminati adjusted the lamp above an oil painting darkened by centuries of smoke. She worked in silence, her brush tracing the curve of an angel’s sleeve.
Art could be restored. People rarely could.
A voice behind her—familiar, hesitant.
“Still painting light out of the dark?”
She froze. Luca Moretti.
The last time she had seen him, he was boarding a train to Prague with a fellowship and a promise he never kept.
Now he stood there, camera in hand, rain in his hair, the same half-smile that used to undo her defenses.
“I’m here for the museum’s portrait series,” he said. “They want shots of conservators with their works. I… asked to photograph you.”
Elia forced her heartbeat into order. “Professional boundaries, Luca.”
“Of course.” But his voice softened. “Still—hello.”
He set up his tripod, quiet but not invisible. The shutter clicked, a small mechanical heartbeat between them. When she finally looked up, their eyes met through the lens—two restorers of different kinds, both chasing what time had ruined.
