On Saturday morning, the house is quiet. Giorgio finishes his breakfast standing by the window. The view overlooks the nondescript street of the working-class neighborhood: comb-like parking spaces, half-withered trees, a still-lit streetlamp. He sips his coffee and glances at his daughter. Alessia had arrived the night before. She lives on her own now, but sometimes spends the weekend with her father. She's wearing dark...