The girl is blind. She is also Jewish. A double curse in the dark years of World War II, when the hunt for the impure, the different, took on a monstrous face of hatred and death. But Giuditta sees what is invisible to most: she speaks with animals, converses with nature, listens to the world without filters, never once feeling defeated.
Alone, especially after the Nazis deported her entire family and she was taken in by Caterina in a mountain village—the wife of Sandokan, leader of the partisan band that in the autumn of 1944 gave the occupiers no rest. It is a novel about war, about discrimination, about suffering, yet it tells, at every turn, of grace, of unexpected warmth, of conscience made flesh. The invitation is to move through life and give it meaning.