Author's note : sorry for the delay, and welcome back to another episode of OMG WILL SHE DIE? Well, the verdict is still unclear. Thank you for all the kind reviews and hope you enjoy the read!

"What is that?" Helen was leaning over my shoulder, looking at the screen of my laptop. There wasn't much to do on this particular friday, so I decided to do some internet research for my weekend excursion to florence. I thought Helen would disapprove, but she just appeared curious. I pointed at the screen, explaining.

"It's an article about the street market in Piazza Santo Spirito, I thought I would stop by there on saturday. "

At the words street market, Helens face went through a series of bizarre facial expressions, as if she had swallowed a whole lemon and was having problems with digesting it. She cocked her head at me and yes, now she was looking at me with disapproval. Back to familiar territory once again. She took a deep breath, massaged her temple with erratic, perfectly manicured fingers.

"You are currently living close to the cultural capital of the world, home to the finest in perfumes, art, fashion and antiques – and you wish to visit a flea market?" she hissed and whispered at the same time, as if she couldnt bear for the other secretaries to hear our conversation.

We stared at each other in silence for a moment. Then I smirked, shrugging as I scrolled down on the website casually as I answered her loudly.

"Actually, its a street market."

Behind me, I could hear Helen hiss and curse something in italian that I couldn't quite translate to english.

" Pazzo donna, it looks like I will have to go with you. Somebody around here needs to show you around..." Well, that was the first time I've ever been called crazy in another language. Then I caught up to what she actually said, turning around in my chair to watch her stalk out of the office with her suit jacket over her shoulder, the other secretaries staring after her. I blinked, shrugging to myself.

"Uhm, okay?"

While it had been an immense surprise that Helen had wanted to accompany me, it was a good thing because now I didn't have to take the bus to Florence, instead we could borrow one of the company owned cars for the day.

Thank god for air conditioning.

However, it was a little awkward spending time with the likes of Helen – especially since I knew that it was under obligation rather than actually wanting to go. I had forgone my work clothes for the ones from my own wardrobe, a short sleeved grey henley and a long floral skirt. My shoes were a pair of discount ballet flats from the airport and my bag was an old school satchel that was really too worn to be used, but I couldnt bear to throw it away. It was sitting in my lap, and I couldnt have felt more like a kid compared to Helen.

She was of course dressed as always in her business suit, a pair large gucci sunglasses obscuring her sharp eyes, black pumps on her feet with red soles.

As we drove off, me sitting in the front passenger seat and Helen driving, an uncomfortable silence settled between us until I couldn't take it anymore.

"Honestly, you didn't have to come with me – but I appriciate it, i really do." I said really fast, just in case she would be offended. I gulped, daring to glance over at the drivers seat.

I could feel Helen looking at me, even though her head didn't turn. She swallowed, hands flexing on the steering wheel. Her head tilted towards me, her mouth open but no words didn't come immidiately.

"Miss Somersten, I feel like we owe you an apology. We don't usually communicate much with foreigners, and we have our special reservations about americans. "

At first I was only offended when she said this – but then I remembered all those american tourists that would wander around Volterra, asking where the closest Mcdonalds was instead of eating at any of the already available restaurants, not cleaning up after themselves, or complaining about the heat.

"I guess I can see why that is." I said, nodding. Helen sighed.

"What I'm trying to say is that it was not warranted around you. And as our intern, we have to show you the respect that you are entitled. " All of this was said with some amount of reluctance, but it sounded truthful. I blinked, surprised at the apology.

"Well, thank you." I said, not knowing what else to say. Helen looked over at me and smiled, not a cool or detached one, but genuine.

"You're welcome, donna."

I managed to convince Helen to come with me to Piazza Santo Spirito, albeit after I promised to forfeit after to her customized tour of Florence, the way she believed it should be experienced. I mentally thanked myself for packing two bottles of sunscreen, since my pale freckled skin was still not used to the strong sunlight. Having said that, my nose would probably still be tinged red by the end of the day.

After I had found (and bargain for) a beautiful but simple necklace at the market which I intended to send to Lana as a souverneir, we went to a nearby bistro for a cup of coffee and some lunch. I hadn't really tried italian coffee before, but found it to be quite good. I made a mental note of buying some to keep at the apartment. While I had been busy thinking of this, Helen had been staring me down, hand continously stirring her coffee. I sat back a little, tensing under her gaze.

"What?" I asked, thinking that I had a stain on my face or clothes. She smiled mysteriously, then drained the last of the coffee from her cup.

"Oh nothing, I just know what we're going to do next."

After we had paid for ourselves and left the cafe, Helen led the way to a smaller, less busier district of the city, over the ponte vecchio bridge that overlooked the arlo river. We were now at the north side of the city, where the winding streets were more like tunnels, rarely opening up to any space bigger than a tin can. There were barely any people here, the shops and venues fewer and fewer. The shops that we did pass by looked like expensive boutiques, most of them closed for the siesta. Just as I thought that the tunnel would continue on forever, I saw it ending up ahead. It opened up to another sunny little square, lined with plane trees.

But that's not where we went – instead Helen stopped in front of a shop with a lacquered black wooden door and turned to wait for me to catch up. There was a big display window next to it, with the words Onorato Custode Di Stelle embellished in gold letters on it. Most of the window was tinted, therefore obscuring what was inside. No light from inside was visible at all.

"What is this?" I asked, a small frown on my face. Helen stepped closer and laid a hand lightly on the door, beginning to push it open as a bell chimed above her head. She glanced over at me with a peculiar smile, as if she was going to play some sort of trick on me. But I'm sure that was only my overactive imagination.

"It's a surprise – come on, it'll be fun."

I didn't immidiatly follow her, instead I lingered on the street, my head turned to watch the beautiful square up ahead of us, bathed in sunlight. It was cool in the shade, but it felt like the wrong choice, and for a moment I wanted to ditch Helen and go on ahead without her. I don't know why this sudden urge came over me.

But as soon as it had come, it passed – I was too curious, and I wanted Helen to like me, approve of me. With a slight push to the door, I walked inside the shop.

The first thing I noticed was how quiet it was inside - all the noise from the city surrounding us was muted, exiled.

Then I noticed the rest of the shop, and almost gasped at the beauty of it. The exterior of it was certainly deceiving, since the inside was much bigger - at least if you considered the depth. Rows and rows of glass displays lined every wall, dust gathering over some of them. Just like my apartment, it also had a decorated ceiling, a medieval scene with forest animals. The wallpaper on the walls were of a deep emerald green, almost black. Every display case were modestly lit, inside them laid jewelry of every kind there was - but all of it looked expensive, as if meant for royalty. I was beginning to wonder what we were doing here.

Another thing that caught my notice was how unkempt the place was - the dust gathering on top of the display cases, the grime on the edges of the floor. As if it had been abandoned and forgotten about, untouched by anyone else since. But how could that be, and why hadn't anyone looted the place?

I was still rooted to the spot just inside the door when Helen noticed me and beckoned me closer to the displays.

"Rebecca, come here."

She put her hand on a desk bell that stood on a small wooden counter squished in-between the cases, its ringing interrupting the strange silence that dominated the shop. So someone did work here then? Perhaps it was the ghost of christmas past.

Turns out I wasn't far off from the truth - a man glided in through an open door I hadn't seen before. He was paler than death, and if I wasn't already applying my imagination to this place, I could have sworn that his eyes were red, not brown. He was a tall man, much taller than the men who ran the Volturi. He had a long, slightly wrinkled face that looked as if it had seen its fair share of troubles - but when he saw us he beamed, a polite smile on paper-thin lips. He looked starved, parched of life.

"From the Volturi? You are always welcome." he said to us in italian, bowing his head with respect. Helen did not return the smile.

"I came to see about the order, is it ready yet?" She asked briskly, and the man nodded. His eyes went to me for the first time, considering and curious.

"Certainly. It is for this young lady, is it not?" Helen nodded at this, holding up her hand on the counter with her palm up.

"Yes. You can bring it over here, if you please." she said, and the man disappeared through the door. He quickly returned with a small black box, and placed in reverently in Helens outstretched hand. To my immense surprise, instead of putting the box in her handbag, she instead handed it over to me. I took it from her carefully, not understanding at first.

"It is an important gift to you." she said, and my eyes shot up to stare at her in surprise.

"For me? "I asked.

"Open it up, you'll understand."

I did as she instructed, carefully removing the black lid to peer inside. Secretly I hoped that it was a bottle opener, or a key chain. Instead I saw what really was there, a thin golden chain, long enough that I realized it was a necklace - and hanging from this chain was a small golden disc. It had ornate patterns engraved into it, framing a letter that stood at its center - the letter V. It was the most beautiful piece of jewellery I had ever been given. But it really was too much.

"I- Helen this is...its beautiful but I cannot accept it. Volturi has already given me so much, this really isn't necessary..." But Helen was having none of it, her once pleasant face now turned to stone.

"No, this is for you and no one else." she said, and I shook my head, not understanding.

"Don't think that I'm not grateful, but why?"

"If anyone sees you wear this, they will respect you. You see?" She asked, holding up an almost identical necklace from around her own neck. Seeing my questioning gaze, she continued. "Think of it as a good luck charm, no harm can come to you while you wear it."