“Enzo!” Sandro hurried over, but the professor’s door stood open and his office was empty.
Enzo’s eyes glistened. “You just missed him. I’m so sorry. I knew you would come. I was hoping you would get here in time.”
Sandro felt his throat thicken, and all of the emotions he had been suppressing caught up with him. He wanted to break down and cry, not only for himself, but for the professor and everyone else, too.
“I’m so sorry about this . . . law.” Enzo sniffled. “Obviously, it disgusts me. It’s discrimination, and it should be overturned, but I know that doesn’t help you now. You were a brilliant student. I learned from you, not the other way around.”
“Thank you,” Sandro said, swallowing hard, as the kind words brought his sadness to the fore. “How was the professor? Was he upset?”
“Yes, but he held his head high. This is a nightmare. We’re losing everybody.”
“Where did he go?” Sandro struggled to maintain his composure.
“I don’t know. Everybody’s in an uproar. No one understands this new law.” Enzo rubbed his face. “The rumor is it’s going to affect almost a hundred professors across the country. It’s so stupid and wrong, and it will only hurt Italy. We’re going to lose the best. What’s the sense in that?”
Sandro didn’t have any answers. He would have to leave La Sapienza right now, never to return. He would never get his chance to work for Levi-Civita. He would never teach here or contribute to the field of mathematics.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Does it matter?” Sandro answered matter-of-factly.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Elisabetta
5 September 1938
After school, Elisabetta entered the steamy kitchen at Casa Servano and hung up her purse outside the pantry, where Nonna sat at her table. Four chubby lines of soft dough sat dusted with flour, and the old woman’s silvery head was bent over them as she cut one line into small sections, leaving a row of small pasta pillows.
Elisabetta assumed Nonna was making gnocchi, but Paolo hadn’t been at the bar to play the guessing game, and she was in no mood anyway. She had worried about Sandro all day, and school had been awful, with all the students, teachers, and administration upset and angry.
“Ciao, Nonna.” Elisabetta crossed to kiss Nonna on the cheeks, breathing in her familiar smells of flour and rosewater. “Did you hear what happened today, to the Jews?”
“What do you think, I live in a cave? Mussolini turns on the Jews, bringing Trastevere to tears! Throwing children out of their schools! Teachers out of jobs! The man is a monster, a scourge! Now you!” Nonna glanced up from her work, her mouth pursed tightly. “Sit down.”
“Me? And Mussolini?” Elisabetta sat down, bewildered.
“Isn’t that my newspaper?” Nonna gestured to yesterday’s newspaper, resting on the other chair.
“Yes.”
“I’m angry with you.”
“Why?”
Nonna pressed her index and middle finger into one of the soft pillows of pasta, made a dimple in the center, then sent it skidding across the flour with a deft backhand of her fingernails. “You wrote on my newspaper?”
Elisabetta had circled some rooms to let. “I suppose so, yes. I’m sorry.”
“You’re looking for a place to stay?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t think to ask me?” Nonna rolled another piece of pasta. “Don’t you realize how insulted I am? Didn’t you think I’d have a room for you? Don’t you know I’m a woman of means? Don’t you know I own property? I have a very nice room in one of my buildings. It even has a bathroom.”
“For me?”
“Of course for you!” Nonna scowled, exasperated.
Elisabetta didn’t understand. It sounded like an offer, if not for Nonna’s manner. “Well, thank you, then. How much is the rent?”
Nonna’s head snapped up, her hooded eyes flaring behind her spectacles. “Elisabetta, what kind of woman do you think I am?”
Elisabetta felt overwhelmed. “A room, for free? I can’t possibly accept such generosity.”
“Then I’ll fire you. Say goodbye to Casa Servano and me.”
“No!” Elisabetta rushed to say, confused.
“You mean ‘yes.’ What’s the matter with you? Can’t you say ‘yes’？”
“Yes!” Elisabetta answered, grateful to be prompted. It wasn’t a conversation, it was a minefield. “Thank you! Where is the room?”