That news absorbed us entirely for weeks, and I was more involved -- I admit -- in the story of our friend than in Dede's exams. Lila and I hurried to Carmen's house, but she already knew everything, or at least the essentials, and she appeared serene. Pasquale had been arrested in the mountains of Serino, in the Avellinese. The carabinieri had surrounded the farmhouse where he was hiding and he had behaved in a reasonable way, he hadn't reacted violently, he hadn't tried to escape. Now -- Carmen said -- I only have to hope that they don't let him die in prison the way Papa did. She continued to consider her brother a good person, in fact on the wave of her emotion she went so far as to say that the three of us -- she, Lila, and I -- carried within us a quantity of wickedness much greater than his. We have been capable of attending only to our own affairs -- she murmured, bursting into tears -- not Pasquale, Pasquale grew up as our father taught him.

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