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It wasn’t just listening — it was a full immersion. She knew every inflection of “Con te partirò,” every breath in “The Prayer,” which she sang herself with a delicate but steady voice, like a bird dreaming of the sky. Her room, a sanctuary of blue, was covered in it: sheets, curtains, string lights… And above her bed, carefully framed, hung a poster of Andrea Bocelli like a sacred image.
“She once told me: ‘Mom, when he sings, I forget I can’t see. It’s like he draws pictures for me — with his voice.’ How do you explain that?”
On the day of the tragedy, Elara had just sung at school. Dressed in a royal blue dress, she performed “Ave Maria” for her classmates. One last note hanging in the air… one final shiver.
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