The sun was rising and would soon illuminate the outlines of the red-roofed house that Belinda glimpsed every day from her bedroom window.
The silhouettes were blurry, the sounds muffled, and the colors still tinged with gray. She could hear the carts going to set up the market in the square, the first cars taking people to work, and the discreet chirping of the neighbor's canaries.
In the background, she could hear the sleepy mumbling of her little brother Raffy, who was most likely dreaming of playing one of his favorite video games, and the light snores of her father, who had been working the night shift.
Belinda smiled to herself: no one she knew would have thought that this large man had a heart of butter; his slight, unkempt beard, combined with that slightly crooked eyebrow, made many people feel uneasy.
She adored her father, considered him a piece of her soul, and was proud whenever her mother, in a fit of rage, would reproach her for being completely her father, because she remained firm in her positions; she was quite rigid in her ideas and couldn't stand subterfuge.
However, the idea that she was completely her father was quite at odds with reality: Michele Taddei was a man over six feet tall with black hair, very green eyes, and a smile that constantly played on his lips. He was not at all inclined to raise his voice or get angry; on the contrary, his proverbial calm encouraged one to remain alert and suggested carefully measuring words and gestures to achieve a result.
Belinda, on the other hand, was petite, barely five feet tall, with slightly wavy golden brown hair, dark green eyes, a slender build, and a skittish disposition. Wary from an early age, she would study people before offering them a smile or a word. Instead, she was very close to her mother, allowing her to see her tormented soul, her pain, her dreams, as if she were a mirror of herself.
Belinda's sullen nature had led Naomi, her sister, to affectionately call her Princess Selena, because she believed that, just like the moon, she too had a dark and changeable side.
Normally, everyone called her Linda, but when someone in the family called her Selena, it meant she was starting to become too much to bear, especially Raffy, who would sing her name until she gave him a smile.
The muffled sound of the alarm reminded her that this was the important day she had been thinking about for the past six months, the one that would bring a profound change to her life and that she had been waiting for at least a year. However, despite her impatience, Belinda felt very nervous.
Kicking the covers off vigorously to get up, she heard the shuffling of feet running in her direction, announcing Naomi's arrival with all her energy.
She rolled her eyes, took a deep breath, and prepared to face her.
The door opened and she found her on the bed, her hair disheveled and half asleep, but with her usual cheeky, tender smile.
"No," Belinda anticipated, raising her index finger in her face.
"Please." Naomi gave her sweet eyes.
"I'll give you a dictionary so you can learn the meaning of the word no," she huffed, getting up and heading for the bathroom.
"You promised me, though."
"I promised you we'd take a trip together, not that I'd take you to the university campus in Germany. I'm going there to plan my studies and see if there are any transfer options," he reminded her.
"But I promise I won't be a burden: I'll stay quietly at the hotel and wait for you while you're on campus, and when you get back, if you're not tired, then we'll go sightseeing."
"Trilly, please. I don't want to visit the city, I don't care, I just want to…"
"…escape Turin for a while, I know," Naomi muttered.
"I'm not running away from anything," Belinda snapped, glaring at her.
"If you say so…" her sister muttered, shrugging.
Belinda inhaled loudly, feeling a strong urge to scream that she wasn't running away.
She opened the bathroom door and slammed it shut behind her; she leaned against it and took a deep breath.
It's not fair!
She had explained to her family several times her desire to move to Germany for an academic year to pursue a university project. It took her parents a while to convince her, but in the end, given the difficult period she had just overcome, they accepted her decision.
Naomi, on the other hand, had taken it very badly and from that moment on had begun stalking her, trying to convince her to take her with her.
She knew her sister had loved all things German ever since, a couple of years earlier, she had fallen in love with a rock band, Scream, and its charismatic vocalist, Bill.
Belinda, when she saw the photos in the newspaper that her sister had enthusiastically shown her, had turned up her nose, commenting with a curt, "Ridiculous!"
From then on, every time Naomi mentioned them—that is, in every conversation—Belinda snorted, rolled her eyes, and muttered unrepeatable reproaches under her breath.
Her sister returned the smug look and continued her monologue unwaveringly.
Their constant skirmishes made friends and family smile.
But that day Belinda refused to get involved in another conversation in which the word Germany rhymed with Bill & Scream, since they were talking about her future.
Moreover, Naomi knew full well that Belinda didn't like going to shops, museums, and concerts, yet she insisted on accompanying her, chasing her everywhere and promising her the most absurd things.
A light knock on the door made her jump.
"Can I have a few minutes of privacy?" she blurted.
"It's me." From behind the door came the warm, calm voice of Tracy, her mother.
Those words, spoken so calmly, made her anger subside, and when she opened the door, she found herself faced with a woman's face that could have been her own twenty years ago. The only difference was her eyes, dark hazel, bright and lively.
"Don't defend her," Belinda snapped, pointing a warning finger at her mother.
"I'm not thinking of it," the woman laughed. "I just wanted to know if you were okay and if you wanted a cappuccino before we leave."
"Yes... yes, please," she murmured, sighing.
Tracy smiled, and as she turned to leave, she whispered, "Trilly is upset because she loves you and doesn't want to lose you. Don't hold it against her." She left and closed the door behind her.
Trilly, as Tinkerbell.
Belinda smiled fondly as she thought of the nickname she'd given her sister when she was born, because her laugh reminded her of the tinkling of bells. Physically, Naomi resembled the Disney fairy, with that open smile, bright green eyes, curly blonde hair, and a loving personality. And she had a big heart, always ready to help, listen, and bend over backwards for others. The image of Naomi several months earlier came to mind, curled up at the foot of her bed, humming a comforting lullaby and caressing her hand.
Her heart tightened, and a cold gust ran down her spine.
Enough!
She told herself, and turned on the cold water to splash her face.
After a few minutes, she headed to her bedroom to get dressed, and as she passed the kitchen, she spotted Naomi, texting her best friend, looking dejected.
She put on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and her comfortable sneakers, and tied her hair in a ponytail, running a thin line of eyeliner under her eyes.
She glanced at the trolley packed in the corner, at her leather jacket, and sighed.
It was no use, that little witch had won again: she couldn't leave her at home.
Belinda returned to the kitchen, sat on a stool at the breakfast bar, and glanced at her sister, who was ignoring her and persisting in tapping her phone.
"While you're here, tell Annalisa I only give her half an hour to pack her suitcase. Make sure it's light, and be ready at the door when we pass by."
She took a bite of chocolate muffin.
A ring of bells rang in the kitchen, and Naomi rose from her chair and hugged her sister, giving her a resounding kiss on the cheek.
"I adore you, you know that?" she shouted as she rushed to get dressed, sending a text to her best friend at supersonic speed.
Belinda's smile widened, and she felt a sweet caress on her heart as she looked into her mother's eyes, who continued pouring coffee into the cup with a knowing smile.
"And if she doesn't behave," Tracy suggested, winking, "you can always punish her by cutting off her spending money."
Belinda smiled amusedly, thinking of her sister's unbridled shopping spree that made her a true fashion victim.
"Count on it," she promised, giving her a kiss before going to retrieve her luggage.