Anna hesitated for a moment at the doorway, her gaze sweeping across the polished counters and the quiet sense of order that ruled the space.
Stepping further into the kitchen, her eyes flickered between Martina and Rosalia.
“I guess I must learn how to make Italian dishes today," she remarked, a slight tilt to her head. "There’s no escaping this, is there?”
Martina and Rosalia exchanged a quick glance and smiled before turning back to her. “Yeah,” they said together.
Without another word, Anna joined them at the counter, and Rosalia handed her a knife and a cutting board.
Rosalia showed Anna how to slice the eggplant thin, how to layer the lasagna sheets just so, how to season the sauce until it tasted as if it had been simmering for generations.
Martina stood beside her, chattering
