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marvelous sketches, projecting in those shadows on the paper everything that burst into her mind.
    In reality, when she had arrived in Rome, Laura could see very little clearly. She was only twenty-three, and at first, she felt as small as an ant in that enormous city with its throngs of people. She didn’t know the language and had never been away from home. In Barcelona she had the protection of her family, especially of her father. And yet she threw herself into the adventure, and thanks to Zunico’s help, not long after setting foot in Rome, she used her wits and managed to rent a small studio in Trastevere, not very far from the Palatine Hill, where she lived on her own. When she would close her eyes in bed at night, she could hear her father’s warm voice asking her how the day had gone, as if he could communicate with her across the hundreds of miles. That was a consolation that mitigated somewhat the solitude at first, which was much more difficult than she’d imaged. But Laura never considered turning back; she had longed so much for the trip that she couldn’t allow herself to return home at the first setback, like a scared little girl, just because she missed her family.
    Seated at her table now, she remembered her first day of work with Zunico. As if her homesickness wasn’t enough, he had reprimanded her in an iron voice because the surface of the gold leaf she was working on had turned out irregular, and he ordered the girl to keep working on it until it was smooth. Laura thought at that moment the famous jeweler might be telling her she was no longer welcome in his workshop.
    But she didn’t allow the temptation to quit, to give up, to get the best of her; she forced herself to stay there until she was able to give Zunico whatever he asked for. She went on polishing the piece, and the next day, when she began to emboss the fine material in the form of a bracelet, she felt a bit better.
    Now, months later, seated in the same place, she remembered perfectly how Zunico had come over to her that morning to congratulate her for a perfect piece of work. And that was how Laura had decided to stay on in Rome and discover what else the city had to offer her.
    â€œBe careful with the settings, Laura, they need to be strong enough to hold the diamonds for the entire life of the necklace, and that could be dozens and dozens of years. You don’t want the lady to lose one of those precious little stones that cost her so many lire …”
    While Zunico went on chattering about the high cost of diamonds, the girl smiled and thought that her stay in Rome really had turned out to be worth it.
    That same afternoon, as she left the workshop, Laura turned down an invitation from her coworkers. They normally got together on Fridays at a café near Piazza di Spagna and then decided where to have dinner afterward. She’d discovered that Rome also had those round-table discussions she had enjoyed so much in Barcelona, surrounded by her old friends. She loved arguing about art and polemicizing into the wee hours of morning about the topics of the day, not worrying about time, work, or other obligations. At first, the language had been a barrier, but little by little, once she’d decided to live life to the fullest in the grand city, she embraced every opportunity to attend these gatherings, which were joined by her coworkers as well as others from the various workshops in the city. They were a group of young artists with a yearning to change the world, and more than a few of them found this commitment to be compatible with a bit of flirting.
    Laura was charmed by those attempted conquests, but she never took them seriously. She was concentrated on her work and trying to learn as much as she could, and that was the reason she’d declined her friends’ invitation. She preferred to rest and stroll calmly to the Alessandrina Library, where she went often to continue digging into the