Mom and dad died at sea. Yet I am living on a small island, surrounded by the sea. And here I am, paddling across it.
I thought: Go ahead. Take me too.
I turned around. My disturbing dream about Vittoria just occurred near the big rock at Sant Angelo, directly below Buonopane, where she… grew up. I was about to say where she was born, but we don’t know that for sure, do we?
Squeak, squeak. Vittoria calls in the middle of the night. She tells me about her vision of being in a white hospital room, and beside her bed appears Veronica Lake. A beautiful woman with bright blonde hair, a curl of which covers her right eye. Veronica has a message for Vittoria: “You must continue the tradition.”
I couldn’t tell Vittoria what the vision meant. But, squeak-squeak, I can speculate. The blonde woman is Vittoria’s birth mother. Mother has come to reassure her child that all will be well. Because Vittoria has a destiny.
Which, by my convoluted reasoning, has to mean Vittoria has a life ahead of her.
Which in turn means my dream of her departure was BOGUS.