[](il-ax)
Heavy rain drummed on roofs and asphalt, refreshing evening. Despite the gray clouds, part of the horizon was still clear, allowing the setting sun to illuminate Sorrento's streets with its orange rays. These streets themselves were not empty - at this hour people were returning home, by car or on foot.
And there she is. Lavinia Falcone, the judge, the guardian of the law, sitting in her apartment with couple of bottles of wine. She chuckled at the thought.
Lavinia took a short breath. "These days, huh?"
The thorns of bracelet slightly moved and dug deeper into her flesh as she picked up the bottle. She hissed and touched her bracelet gently. "Still here, still reminding..." Then, opening the bottle, "Che peccato..."
The wine poured into glass with soft gurgling sound. First sip, then another. She settled in her favorite armchair by the window, watching rain outside.
