There was no other viable explanation.
Unfortunately, that meant there had been little we could do to protect ourselves. Someone like that is absolute in their ruthlessness. Like a terrorist bent on bombing a building, his blind conviction and depraved lack of empathy made him enormously dangerous.
The most frightening part was how well he hid it. I shuddered to think what else he could have been capable of through the years. It was good his true nature had been revealed, but he was still on the loose. A part of me wouldn’t be able to breathe easily until Sal was caught. I knew what my father would likely do to him once he was captured, and I couldn’t summon an ounce of sympathy—not as long as that wink played over and over in my mind.
Whatever Sal received, he’d brought it on himself.
Giada came over not long after I went home to my apartment. I explained what had happened, and we cried together. She spent the evening with me, watching moviesand helping me keep my mind off everything that had happened; but when night fell, and I was all alone, there was no escaping my thoughts and memories. By Saturday, I was sick of thinking.
When my mother texted, asking to come by for a visit, I welcomed the distraction. She rarely came into the city—I could count the number of times she’d been to my apartment on one hand—but considering the events of the week, I wasn’t surprised when she asked to stop by.
Having company over was the perfect excuse to shower. The doctor had told me not to bathe for a couple days to allow the wounds time to close. It had been Tuesday since I’d had a good shower, so by Saturday morning, I felt wretched. As far as I was concerned, the wounds had been given enough time. If I went another day without a shower, I was going to lose my ever-loving mind.
My first step into the warm spray was the delicious feeling of waking up on a Monday morning only to realize it was still Sunday. I kept the normally blazing temperature of my shower down to a comfortable warmth so as not to burn the tender skin. I washed my hair twice, shaved what could be accessed, and simply enjoyed the cleansing feel of the water.
By the time my mom stopped by, I was feeling almost human again. She gave me a gentle hug, careful not to press too hard against my wounds, and made herself comfortable.
“I’m so glad to see you looking so much better. I’ve been worried sick,” she said as she put her things down on the table.
“I know, Mom, but I needed to get back here to my own space. I feel much better, so hopefully, now you can stop worrying.”
“I brought some deli meat for sandwiches—it’d help to see you eat.”
“I was kidnapped, not starved,” I teased.
“I know, but something about eating says everything will be fine.” She waved her hands in the air in a grand sweeping gesture.
“It’s the Italian way—it’s a miracle we’re not all obese.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” she said as she crossed herself. “On that note, let’s eat—I’m starved.”
I grabbed plates and condiments while she opened the deli bags and filled the silence with updates on the upcoming graduation party. I listened half-heartedly, part of my brain still stuck on an endless loop of worry about my life.
“Are you even listening?” she chided. I must not have been paying as much attention as I’d thought.
“Sorry, Mom. I’ve been distracted lately thinking about things.”
She set down her sandwich and took a deep breath. “Actually, that’s the other reason I wanted to come by.” She gave me a look that said, please try to understand, and it made my spine stiffen. “Growing up, my father was a soldier in the family. Things were very different then—keeping something like that a secret from your children was nearly impossible. I knew from a young age that my dad was a family man, so when I met your father, his role in the organization never fazed me.”
“Did you ever consider separating yourself from that life?” I asked. Not only was I interested in getting her take, I was fascinated to hear this part of my mother’s history. It was a side to her I’d never known existed.
“Not really. That was just life; it never occurred to me that there was anything wrong with it.”
“What about the dangers?”
“I know this is going to be hard to believe after what you’ve just gone through, but there isn’t much more threat being in the family than there is driving at rush hour. Sometimes, things happen. It’s an unfortunate part of life—there’s never any way to be totally risk-free.”
“Yeah, but it seems like it would be best to minimize that risk if at all possible.”
Mom’s head listed to the side, and she gave me a sad smile. “Sometimes, risk is the only way you get to the most beautiful parts of life. Your father was worth whatever risk came with him. I don’t regret one day I’ve spent with him, even when he leaves his dirty dishes on the counter.”
My mom hounded my dad incessantly about cleaning up after himself, and it never stuck. Maybe it was some kind of bizarre game between them. I had no idea, but it was an endearing part of their relationship that made them my parents. The reminder made me smile, but it quickly fell from my face when I thought of what I needed to ask next.
“What about Marco?” The words were nothing but a frightened whisper. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I needed to know how she reconciled Dad’s role in my brother’s death.
She physically recoiled at the reminder. “I think a parent always shoulders an unbearable amount of guilt when their child dies, no matter the cause. Your father and I will always regret not keeping Marco safe, but we can’t take responsibility for the actions of monsters. When a school is shot up, a parent can’t blame themselves for not homeschooling their kids. Drunk drivers and terrorists, murderers and rapists—bad people are everywhere, in every walk of life.”
I stared at my mom, my eyes searching hers and findingthe strength and compassion I’d always known from her. “I’m scared, Momma,” I admitted softly.
