When Sonia raised her brows, Malachi mirrored her expression. What, did she not believe him? If he’d made up something that sounded vaguely foreign instead, would she have believed that? He watched as the woman turned her eyes back to the sea, and for another few moments, he was still.

The silence dragged on. In his solitude, he had been content to simply watch the ebb and flow of the tides, but now that he was up and moving around it just bored him. So, since Sonia seemed wrapped up in her contemplation and silent seconds became silent minutes, Malachi took a step to the side and started to turn, as if he meant to slip away without her notice.

Solomon, she said, and his head whipped back around to face her.

“Ah. Not a problem, signora,” Malachi assured, taking a few steps closer again.

“So much of my work is spent in solitude, I enjoy getting to listen to other people. What troubles them, what brings them joy.”

He considered the way she watched the water, the lulls between sentences. Quieter, he asked, “what about you? What brings you joy, Sonia?”