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The residents here liked to grow orange trees on their rooftops and doorsteps, and the pots were surrounded by circles of pasta, giving it the feel of people playing with performance art.
Florence, which in Italian was the "City of Flowers," now seemed more suited to be called the "Pasta Headquarters" of Italy.
The artisans truly had remarkable skills. Not only did they replicate the design exactly as per the blueprint, but they also incorporated a spotlight feature according to her notes, perfectly meeting the basic requirements.
Hedy specially placed a strand of hair under the microscope, and after adjusting the distance, she could clearly magnify it several times.
Her mood suddenly brightened, and she paid an extra two silver coins.
"Thank you—you’re really wonderful," the optician said, smiling so widely he couldn't close his mouth. "We look forward to your next visit!"
As they made their way back, they had to pass through the long Piazza della Signoria to buy some things at the apothecary.
Before they had walked very far, suddenly, a flock of pigeons flew up in a panic, followed by several women shouting in alarm as people rushed over.
What had happened?
Hedy vaguely heard someone calling for help and quickly handed what she was holding to her maid, carefully pushing her way into the crowd.
A rather plump woman had collapsed on the ground, already unconscious.
It could be a heart attack!
Without thinking, she pressed through the crowd and called out loudly, "What’s her name?"
"Alia!" a familiar voice cried out in panic. "Alia Alejo!"
"Alia—wake up! Can you hear me?!"
The woman did not respond. Her pulse was still, and there was no movement when Hedy pressed on her palm.
Hedy leaned down and pressed her ear to the woman’s chest—no heartbeat.
Her pupils had already begun to dilate, and her breathing was faint and barely detectable.
No time to lose, she had to act fast.
She looked around for help and found Mr. Alejo standing beside her, his face pale.
"Come here—use your left hand to support her neck, and your right hand to press her forehead, tilting her head back," she shouted. "Make sure her breathing stays clear!"
In front of the crowd, Hedy crossed her hands and began to strike and press on the woman’s chest just above the sternum, counting in her head, ready to administer mouth-to-mouth if necessary.
If this was considered inappropriate, she might face punishment just like Da Vinci—better not think about that right now...
Hedy ignored the thoughts, maintaining enough distance to give mouth-to-mouth while pressing hard on the woman’s chest, praying she would come around soon.
Mr. Alejo, trembling, supported his mother, his palms icy cold as he stood on edge, panic written all over his face.
Just then, the woman, who had been unconscious, suddenly jolted. Her pupils began to contract rapidly.
Her cheeks flushed with color again, and her lips began to regain their natural hue.
Hedy waited until the woman finally stirred, helped her expel the vomit from her throat, and only then did she let out a relieved sigh.
She was alright—everything else could wait.
When the woman finally stood up with Alejo’s help, the crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause. Some even tried to grab Hedy, asking her to check on their own relatives.
