Lucia looked around the apartment that she had been assigned to and marvelled at the grandeur. This was hers. Her mother had told her that this would be her place to do with as she wished. She wanted to change nothing. She did not think she could bear to taint it with her personal touch. It was perfect without her messing it up.
She walked over to the table in the open-plan kitchen-dining room and picked up an orange from the bowl at the centre of the table. She bounced it from hand to hand as she walked out of the room and towards the living room, where she looked down at the courtyard. It was not the first time she wondered if she was dreaming or not. She was not the only one.