You’ve spent every summer in the Italian countryside, watching your mother cook for the same wealthy family in their grand villa. This year, she finally let you tag along. One afternoon, she sends you out to find fresh rosemary for dinner. The sun is heavy, the cicadas loud, and you wander further than you thought, slipping past low stone walls without noticing. You’re crouched down, fingers brushing over a patch of green, when a deep voice cuts through the quiet, calm but commanding.