Two days later, I saw him again. On the cemetery of Rome, where is grandfather was to be buried, we met once more. The ceremony was set to be as soon as possible after the corpse's discovery since it was already God-knows-how-old. There had barely been a day to announce it in the newspaper, nevertheless many people had come. It occurred to me that I was witnessing the passing of someone loved and respected by everyone.

I waited near the cemetery gates until the ceremony was over and people started to head towards a local inn for the funeral reception. Finally, I entered with a single white rose in hand. I found him near the memorial for the victims of the great war. Feliciano stood in front the grave. His shoulders slouched, his arms hung down limb on either side of his body. In a way, he reminded me of the body I'd found in an ally, like he had become a dead body himself. I slowly, carefully approached him. It was no use.

"You didn't have to come", he stated. Of course not, but I wanted to.

"Ah-, forgive me if this seems inappropriate to you but I felt that I should", I mumbled. The air was thick with fog, yet so fragile that it might break when hit with sound.

"I'll leave immediately, let me just… here…"

Laying the rose on the grave he was standing in front of seemed even more awkward, so I just gave it to him. He looked at it as if he didn't know what it was, then threw it like the butt of a smoked up cigarette.

"What's the use now?" he said with a smile. I was at a loss. The rose disappeared in a mountain of floral arrangements. Certainly, people hadn't cheeped out on expressing their fondness of this man.

We stared at the pile of flowers for a while but I felt that Feliciano was elsewhere with his thoughts. Or, perhaps, he was nowhere.

"Shouldn't you be with the funeral guests right now? I could drive you if you'd like that", I suggested.

"Lovino will take care of them for me, so it's fine for now", he answered. Naturally, he wouldn't accept anything from me just like that – with there being one exception:

"Do you… have any smokes on you?"

We stood outside the cemetery and puffed out little clouds that disappeared in the fog.

"Who's Lovino?" I asked when we were half-burnt.

"My brother", he answered, watching another haze of smoke that he exhaled become nothing.

When I thought about it, there had been a man in the crowd that left the cemetery who seemed to be the center of attention. He had been comforting others the entire way out but the shadows under his eyes revealed that he suffered more than the ones whose tears he dried. He resembled Feliciano and I concluded that he was Lovino Vargas.

"I should get going but don't bother with the car, it would just look suspicious if I arrived there in a Mercedes", he grinned. And as he pressed the finished cigarette into the ground with the sole of his worn-out shoes, we were strangers again.

"Senior Vargas, I'd like to offer you my sympathy but I don't know how. If there is anything I can help you with, I'd be happy to. Call me anytime", I roared.

He looked at the business card I held out to him, then at my face, then at the card again. He took it and smiled.

"I will. Thanks for your concern, Ludwig. So long."

I stared at his back until he turned the corner and went out of sight.

There were no calls from an unknown number for two weeks. Fourteen nights, to be exact. I had already given up on ever sleeping again, when his call reached me in my office one late afternoon. When he arrived there I set in my office chair, facing the door with my back. He came in without knocking and didn't say anything after he had closed the door. With quiet footsteps on the wooden floor, he approached me. Then, he let himself fall into my lap and whispered:

"Ludwig, I need you."

I was overcome with joy when he told me that. I looked into his warm, pleading eyes and answered:

"Anything for you, Feliciano."

I'll do anything for you, so please just stay focused on me a little bit longer.

I came by his house a few days after. He left through the front door with his brother at 8.37 A.M. on a Sunday. They were running late for church. I followed them and set two rows behind, a little to the left. After the ceremony, they went to the cemetery. I waited outside by the gate, right where Feliciano and I had been the other day. Then, they went home. I stood in the backyard and waited.

"Fratello, I just remembered that I forgot to talk to Seniora Rossi today! What should we do about it, she lives all alone and was a friend of grandpa's!"

"Seriously, Feli, you're such a scatterbrain! It's best if you go talk to her right now, maybe you'll catch her on her way home. Hurry, I'll start preparing lunch while you're gone."

"I'll be on my way, then!" he yelled into the kitchen, already with one foot out the door.

That was my chance. I stepped out from the shadows and into his way.

"Oh! Good afternoon Senior, I…"

"Good indeed", I smirked. Leaning in closer, I whispered:

"You see this? This is a Browning High-Power FN GP 35, one pull on the trigger and that's it for you. Understand?"

He nodded.

"Good. Come with me."

We got into the car. I drove back to my office. We went upstairs, into my apartment. Everything was prepared. We were all alone. I closed the door.