“It’s good to see you boys all grown up,” Uncle Kevin says, his gaze flicking to the shattered glass and faint traces of blood still being cleaned up. “Looks like you’ve had an interesting day.”
“Yes, we have,” Gino replies. He steps aside and gestures them in. “Come on inside. I think we need to have a chat about what’s happened over the last couple decades.”
Uncle Kevin and Aunt Lucy step inside, and all I can think about are the countless times they told me that one day, everything would make sense.
Growing up, I spent so many days—and nights—angry with them. Hurt. Frustrated by the fact that they couldn’t tell me anything, no matter how much I begged or pushed. But after these strange, chaotic twenty-four hours, I finally understand. At least a little.
They made a promise to my father. One they took seriously. And in keeping it, they gave up more than I ever realized.
They gave up the chance to have their own family. To live their lives together without constantly worrying about protecting me. About hiding the truth. About keeping me safe from things I was never meant to see.
I’ve spent countless sleepless nights turning that over in my head, wondering why they chose not to say anything. But Inever asked. I was too angry most of the time to see past my own hurt.
Then it hits me—they were like parents to me. And I never really gave them the chance to be that. Not fully.
They never had children of their own. Not that I ever asked if they wanted any. But I can’t help assuming they thought about it. Maybe even wanted it.
“You okay?” Juliet asks, her voice gentle.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I’m going to finish up dinner,” Juliet adds before heading back toward the kitchen, leaving me alone in the entryway.
Uncle Kevin and the rest of the men disappear into another room. Aunt Lucy steps over to me instead.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she says, her eyes sad but her smile soft.
“Hi, Auntie.”
“Come on,” she says gently. “Let’s go sit over there and talk, hmm?”
“Okay.”
I follow her into a small sitting area. She lowers herself into a white chair, and I take the one across from her.
She studies me for a moment before speaking.
“It’s been a wild day, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “What do we do now? Do I stay here? Is that what Dad wanted?”
“I’m not sure. That decision is up to Gino. But your father wanted both of you to have independence. To be your own people. To be able to take care of yourselves.”
“But does this happen a lot? The shooting. The random people just showing up?”
“Not as often as you think,” she says, offering a soft smile and a wink.
“Then why did they show up?”
She hesitates. “I’m guessing here—and don’t take this thewrong way—but I wouldn’t be surprised if they saw you arrive and thought it was an opening.” She gestures subtly toward my hair. “Your coloring makes people assume you’re Irish, but your last name is Italian. Someone who doesn’t know better might think there’s an opportunity. An alliance.”
That explanation settles in slowly. And somehow, it makes everything feel even more dangerous.
“Hmm. I’ve wanted to ask you this for a long time, but never did. And right now… I just feel like I need to.”
I look at her. She meets my gaze, waiting patiently.
“Why didn’t you and Uncle Kevin ever have kids?”
