Dante passed through on his way to a meeting. Elena introduced them. He asked Rosa how she liked the garden, then listened while she explained which plants would survive on their apartment balcony. He did not mention bills or hospital rooms.
After he left, Rosa tilted her head toward the hall. “He seems to have learned something.”
“I hope so.”
Near the service door, the music box sat on a narrow shelf awaiting a safer display case. Elena had repaired its bent pin with tools her mother once used at a tailoring shop. Rosa recognized the tune when Elena wound it.
They listened until the last thin note faded. Then Elena closed the lid, collected her coat, and went home with her mother. At the gate, the guard greeted her by name, and she answered without looking over her shoulder.
