Chapter 41: Via Brera
The restaurant had no sign.
That was the first thing Élise noticed — the absence of the thing that most restaurants considered essential. No name above the door. No menu in the window. Just a door on a narrow street in the Brera district, dark wood, slightly worn at the handle in the way of a door that had been opened many thousands of times by many thousands of hands, and through the window the warm amber light of a room that had been warm and amber for a very long time and intended to remain so.
Adriano had not explained the restaurant on the walk over.
