They had met in the courtyard of the mansion in Caesarea. She was still wrapped in the tentacles of the visions that awaited her in the ancestral home, he restless and determined. "I want to tell you..." he had whispered to her, and the woman had looked at him with a different gaze, her eyes flooded with images and empty of everything else. How could this be happening? For a moment, the man feared what she might have seen in there, ghosts? He pushed the thought out of his mind. He was a practical type, a genuine American, he had to talk to her. Time was running out and Elsa was diving deeper and deeper into the past, somewhere they would meet, maybe at the bottom, and then she would blame him for the silence. He was determined to reveal to her this amazing thing that had happened to him so quickly. Almost from the beginning, he had started thinking about it. Reasonable suspicions pushed him to make sure, at least that’s how it seemed to him, and it turned out he was not wrong after all. On the contrary, Elsa seemed to be on a different wavelength and her mind was not going in that direction.