don't wait ten years to ...

"Miss Fontelieu, are you okay? Miss, wake up!" The flight attendant gently shook Maya's shoulder. Maya blinked awake, confused. "Where are we?" she asked groggily.

She had fallen asleep while writing an article about the ten greatest rock solos of all time for Rock Off magazine. Her laptop was on her lap, missing only the number one spot on her list. "The number one of all time could be Crimson Echoes' classic 'Shadows of the Broken Mind,'" she typed quickly, then closed her laptop to wait for the next Wi-Fi signal.

Getting off the plane, she felt the temperature change immediately. Perugia was much hotter than London, forcing her to remove her jumper before reaching passport control.

Maya reclined against the car seat as they left the airport parking lot. The weight of their friendship sat heavily between them.

Annabelle Guarducci—Anna for short—had been her best friend during the holidays she spent in the small town of San Fiorenzo. They kept in touch over the years, but Maya couldn't shake the awkward feeling about what they had once done.

"Have you spoken with him?" Maya asked.

"Not in a while." Anna's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "After what happened, it's difficult to keep a friendship the way it was before."

"He tried to call me a few times in the first two years," Maya admitted. "But I didn't answer. I'd rather not deal with any of that."

"It was a rough time, Maya. He was trying to spare you from all that mess."

The car pulled onto the motorway. San Fiorenzo was about an hour away. Maya held dual citizenship—French and Italian. Her grandmother, Gilda, had married an Italian bricklayer who worked on the French Riviera. After starting their family there, they moved back to his hometown of San Fiorenzo. Maya had been coming to San Fiorenzo every summer since she was five years old.

When you arrive in San Fiorenzo from the roundabout at the city's base, the medieval town rises above you on the hilltop. The church tower and houses clustered against the old wall form a striking silhouette. Maya knew it well. After ten years away, she was back to see those she loved and to settle some old scores.

Anna dropped Maya at her grandparents' house in Colle del Pino, near La Pineta. Only her grandmother was waiting; her grandfather had passed away a couple of years ago, and Maya hadn't even attended the funeral—too busy to come.

Her bedroom looked exactly as it had when she was seventeen. Her grandmother had kept everything in place—even the rock band posters. The old bookcase, CD organiser, and desk where she wrote her first articles were treasure troves of memories.

After a couple of hours of sleep, Maya came downstairs to the delicious smell of roast chicken and potatoes.

"Come and sit, my dear." Her grandmother smiled warmly. "Would you like some coffee and biscuits? How are things in London?"

Her grandmother walked up behind her, caressing her hair in the gentle way she had when Maya was small.

"I've missed you, Nanny," Maya whispered. "It's been so long since we've done something together—like when you taught me to bake a cake or make homemade pasta."

"Amore mio, that is what grandparents are for."

Half an hour later, Anna honked outside—like she used to do with her scooter when they were younger.

"Girl, are you ready?" Anna laughed. "Let's get some of that famous coffee at Enzo's, or even some pie if you haven't had dessert."

San Fiorenzo was a small town in the Umbrian hills. Once home to five thousand people, only about two thousand remained. Many had left for studies or work in Milan, Rome, or Switzerland. As part of the Way of Saint Francis, the town saw many pilgrims each year, following the saint's path from San Fiorenzo to Assisi and then to Rome.

The girls headed to the Tower Coffee Shop, where young people gathered. They found a free table and scanned the room.

"I don't see anyone I know," Maya said.

"Things have changed." Anna's voice was quiet. "A lot of our old friends have left. Our old crowd scattered."

"Why did you leave that day?" Anna's tone sharpened. "You were supposed to finish the summer holidays, but you went back without even saying goodbye. We were all wondering what happened."

Maya had expected this question, but not so soon.

"What do you think, Anna—that it was all roses for me? After that night, my life fell apart. You were there too. Don't you remember? What happened was his fault."

"You can't control your feelings or choose who you'll have feelings for."

"You don't know what you're saying! We were friends, and friends are sometimes worth more than you think."

The door opened with a chime. Maya's eyes narrowed as she scanned the newcomer.

"Did you call him, Anna? How nice of you to invite him behind my back."

"You know what, Maya? I'm done with your bullshit. Don't call me until you sort yourself out."

Anna pushed her chair back, but before she could stand, Loris appeared, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Don't go, Anna. I came here to talk to Maya." His voice was tired. "It's been ten years since that night, and she still hasn't forgiven me. She left without a word. I know we were all high, but I was the only one who took the fall. They were after me for months. I couldn't finish my studies, couldn't leave town until everything was cleared up."

"What fall?" Maya snapped. "What happened that you and Anna haven't told me? Is this about that girl at the disco? That was supposed to be our night, and you ruined everything."

Anna was already upset, past caring what her old friends thought.

"That girl has a name, Maya. Olivia. We went to school together. That night, we all went home not knowing what had happened. Disappearing was really nice of you."

Loris looked disappointed. "Of course, I knew her—we were classmates. She was one of my best friends at school."

"I saw you talking with her near the toilets," Maya shot back. "I didn't know you were friends. If I had, things would've been different."

"Maya," Loris said, "did you say something to her that night? That's your problem—you never listen to anyone but yourself."

"Do you think I liked pretending back then? That night, when I saw you with her, I lost my mind."

"What do you mean, you lost your mind?" Loris pressed.

"After you left, I bought her a drink. Then, someone gave me a ride home. The next morning, I went back to France without looking back."

"I called so many times, but you ignored me. Everyone thought it was my fault."

Maya's voice shook. "Do you know what I went through? The local police came after me, too. For months, they hounded me with questions about what happened!"

"You know what happened, Maya," Loris said quietly. "She told me. She's been visiting me at night... and visiting you too. I tried to call you about the nightmares, but it was useless. She's been torturing me for years."

"You're both mad!" Maya shouted, pushing her chair back.

Before Maya could stand, invisible hands pressed down on her shoulders. The coffee shop began to spin and blur. Tables rattled violently, glasses crashed to the floor, and the other customers flickered like an old film before disappearing entirely. A red glow emanated from the doorway.

Then the vision began.

Maya watched helplessly as the past unfolded. She saw Loris at the disco, gently telling Olivia that he could only be friends because he was in love with someone else. She saw his kind rejection, his promise to visit France after graduation.

The scene shifted. Now Maya saw herself—angry, jealous, reckless. She watched her younger self crush two pills into a drink, thinking bitterly about getting high and not caring about consequences. But in her rage, she had grabbed the wrong cup. Olivia had innocently picked up Maya's spiked drink and downed it all.

The coffee shop snapped back to normal. The chatter resumed, tables stood upright, and her friends sat staring at her expectantly. But a whisper echoed in Maya's ear: "You haven't changed... And I'll remind you every day."

"Miss Fontelieu, are you okay? Miss, wake up!" The flight attendant gently shook Maya's shoulder. Maya blinked awake, confused. "Where are we?" she asked groggily.