‘We’ve tried, but it’s hard. Italians pretend to tolerate gypsies, and they also have a huge prejudice against us, against everyone who doesn’t belong to their tribe. It’s a no-go for both sides.’ They stared at the group of exquisite human beings, at their brown, sun-kissed skin. ‘These are even more headstrong than the ones I’m used to dealing with. They also don’t mix with the others and I don’t understand one word of their language. It’s not romani. I don’t know what it is.’ 

‘I don’t see how I’d make a difference in negociations.’ The blonde confessed, hesitant. She knew close to nothing about gypsies, their culture and traditions. She had no idea of what the right way of talking to them was, much less how she was supposed to convince that cluster into accepting their help. 

‘Who knows?’ Patricia shrugged. ‘First, I’ve already tried everything else. Second, my guess is that they’re from another country since they only showed up a month ago and don’t mingle with our roma. Make they can somehow make a connection to you.’ 

‘Oh, gee, that’s risky… What if I insult them somehow?’ For an unknown reason, she felt that it was a very bad option. 

‘Believe me, I’ve been there.’ The two women shared a condescending look. ‘I know what you mean, but it’s a risk we’ll have to take. One I’m willing to take. I trust you.’ 

Tina pondered over it, was overwhelmed by Arpino’s confidence, found herself trapped between two possibilities: either she could run away screaming, like a damn coward, and earn Patricia’s scorn or… she could lift her chest, face the challenge and suffer the consequences, whatever they would be, with at least some dignity left. 

She was about to give a first tentative step forward, in the general direction of the gypsies, when she heard the sound of pounding feet approaching, then felt a delicate, frail hand close on her shoulder. 

The blonde turned around, saw Alba waving goodbye to someone who was running. The girl’s cheeks were a vivid red, glistening with sweat, her breath slightly ruffled. 

‘Hey, Tina. How’s everything going?’ The teen asked, smiling sweetly. 

‘What are you doing here?’ The American asked suspiciously, even though Ms. Hernandez had grown up in Firenze and could move freely around it.