2 -11.11.21- | Kenzie Anne - Florentine Part

“Yes?”

Now it was November 11th, 2021. The Feast of St. Martin. Summer’s last illusion was dead.

“I found it.” He pulled a small object from his jacket pocket. A leather-bound book, no bigger than her palm, the cover tooled with a faded fleur-de-lis. Florentine. Late 16th century. Kenzie Anne - Florentine Part 2 -11.11.21-

She finally turned to face him. His eyes were the color of the Arno after the storm—gray-green, churning. There was a small cut on his lower lip, fresh. He hadn’t had it yesterday.

Matteo touched the cut on his lip.

“She’s waiting,” Kenzie said. “For something. Someone.”

“You’re looking for something,” she said. “Yes

“That’s me,” she whispered.