Lost in the City of Flowers (The Histories of Idan Book 1) by Maria C. Trujillo Read Free Book Online

your youth.” She paused a moment. “Tell me what troubles you, Viola.”
    “I am not sure if I can explain, but I think I may be lost forever. I have zero hope of seeing my family again, and I don’t have any money or way to repay you. All I have is this locket …” I took off my locket. Delicate lines caressed its silver case and the embellished pearl at its center. Sure of its value, I held out the locket to her.
    She stared at me panting for words.
    “How did you get that?” She picked up the locket to inspect it.
    “It was my grandmother’s. My mom gave it to me on my twelfth birthday. She was—”
    Zia gave me an incredulous look. She pulled out a locket from her dress. It was identical. “How is this possible? My ailing husband gave this to me before he passed away and you have the same one.”
    Realizing that I was possibly in the presence of a very great grandmother, I thought about movies I had watched about time travel. Would confessing have repercussions on my future ? Opting for silence, I sat staring stupidly at both lockets. Suddenly I felt less alone and my foreign surroundings seemed more welcoming.
    Zia’s mouth quivered. “Surely this is a sign from God that I was meant to find you. You have been sent by the good Lord himself and I will make sure you lack for nothing.” With these reassuring words, she fastened the locket around my neck and kissed my forehead. “You must not worry, child. You are with family now. Do not grieve for the past. There is a plan for all those willing.”
    She grabbed my hands and examined them. “I can see you have not worked a day in your life. Your hands look like those of young Medici!” She laughed. “We will have to change that. What are your skills? Can you sew?”
    “No, but I can learn,” I said
    “Hmm … Can you cook?
    “A little,” I confessed.

    “Pray! What have you been doing with your youth?”
    “I’ve learned other things though! I read and write. I’m pretty good at math. But mostly, I have been drawing and painting.”
    “Allora? That is most unusual. Those are all male professions. This makes things most difficult.” She paused. “Do you have proof you can do such things?”
    “I do.”
    “Show me.”
    I took my sketchbook out of the satchel and passed it to her. She looked curiously at the doodles, quotes, and stickers covering it. As Zia started to flip through the pages, she passed some sketches of school children, bedroom sheets, strangers in central park, a garbage can full of protest posters, and my dad. She closed it and handed it back to me.
    “I will speak to my nephew, Andrea, tomorrow. He is very famous here and owns a workshop. There might be some work for you there, but do not show your notebook to anyone.” I nodded in agreement. “Speaking of Andrea, I must make my goat cannelloni! They are his favorite and he could use the rest of the goat to make glue.” She stood up and signaled for me to do the same.
    “Glue from a goat?” I asked.
    “Of course, child! How do you think that paper sticks to your book?” Remembering where and when I was, I stopped myself.
    “Come, Viola, idleness is for the Devil and we have been idle indeed! Let us finish the day’s tasks and we might roughen those delicate hands of yours.” She stood in the doorway and waited for me to follow her. When I stood up, my stomach made a loud gurgling sound.
    “Oh, Viola! You must be hungry. Why did you not say so? It is nearly two in the afternoon and I am starting to get hungry as well. Shall we eat something before our errands?” she asked.
    Nodding in agreement, I followed her down the staircase. Zia went into a room tucked behind the kitchen and carried out a wooden platter laden with cheese, fruit, and bread.
    Apart from the table and its chairs, there were two large ceramic barrels in one corner of the room and next to the table was a shelving closet. The shelves held glass jars and had painted vine detailing around the edges.