Page 166 of Unravel Me

"Do you think Rocco knew that Tito was his father?"

"I think most of the family suspected it, but they absolutely didn’t talk about it, everyone kept it to themselves. A conspiracy of silence. Out of respect for Aldo, perhaps. After Aldo and Paolo were murdered by Anzo, bringing something like that up was considered… in bad taste. But anyone with half a brain could always have guessed by looking at Rocco. He looked so much like Tito, with the same eyes. Paolo had light amber eyes, while Aldo’s were green. But Rocco’s eyes were completely black."

"Just like Ennio’s. Ennio is Tito’s son, right, but with a different dad?"

"Yes."

For a moment, we both fall silent.

Gianni keeps Tommy properly entertained, building him a goal out of sugar cubes he took from the bowl so the wooden animals can shoot into it, while a few grapes from the fruit tray serve as the balls.

He doesn’t say a word or join the conversation, as if the whole subject is simply too heavy for him.

"Well, I hope Ennio turns out to be a better capo, even though he’s also Tito’s son and Rocco’s half-brother." I sigh, straightening up in my chair. And I truly hope it to be truth.

"Yes. He was also raised in tragic circumstances, but at least not by Tito, and that already counts for something. Mauro trusts him, and even though he isn’t a very friendly person, he isn’t a degenerate either. He has morals." Emilio sighs. "I probably shouldn’t say that because he’s my brother’s son, but I’m glad Rocco is dead. Anyone is better than him."

We stop talking about the heavy topic when Tony comes in carrying an elaborate dinner for me.

I’m starting to become more and more fond of Sicilian cuisine, and this time there’s caponata on the plate, stewed eggplant with celery, onions, olives, and capers, served with bread and olive oil. He must have taken some of it from the freezer; I can’t believe he cooked it all so quickly.

I start eating and watch Tommy, who’s now playing with all the wooden figurines Gianni gave him, including a small stone hedgehog, a marble mud turtle, and a crystal unicorn.

My thoughts are still caught up in Rocco, in how that upbringing shaped him into a monster who ultimately paid the price for it. I keep wanting to place all the blame on Tito, but Rocco had been an adult for many years. He was thirty-one, and yet he never made any real attempt to stop being evil. Can you break free from the grip of your upbringing? From the programming it leaves behind? Can someone raised without any sense of morality learn it later in life?

There’s a saying: ‘As the twig is bent, so grows the tree.’ Rocco became living proof of that.

With Tony around, the conversation gradually shifts to other subjects. Just as I’m finishing my meal, I unexpectedly hear footsteps in the hallway, and Renato walks in.

He stops short when he sees me, his eyes immediately finding Tommy and me.

I get to my feet at once and walk over to him, circling around the table while Emilio, Gianni, and Tony watch us closely.

"I came back," I say, even though it’s obvious, since I’m standing right in front of him, duh!

"I’m sorry about everything that happened. I didn’t mean to run off like that, but I was in shock. And I’m so sorry about Silvio’s death, and about the fact that I contributed to—"

"Shh." Renato gently cuts me off. "Rocco is responsible for my dad’s death. He pulled the trigger. Besides, Silvio hasn’t truly left us. His spirit lives on in the tree. If I want to, I can still communicate with him."

For a moment I just stand there, looking at him with what is probably a rather lost expression. Renato tilts his head slightly, his forest eyes traveling over my face. Then he lifts a hand and gently rests it on my shoulder.

"Jared, he saved not only you, but also the next guardian." Renato makes a subtle gesture toward my belly.

I clear my throat. "So… this child truly will be the next guardian of the forest?"

"Yes! I’m sorry this news comes at such a difficult time, but new life can emerge even when there’s a loss along the journey. That’s what matters most. Silvio is happy that his transformation happened in such a beautiful way, thanks to your help, while also healing the forest we protect."

"So you’re… not angry?" I ask shyly.

"Not at all. We’re all happy you came back. And we’re hoping you’ll stay here with your son."

Then he smiles and opens his arms.

I step into them, overwhelmed by relief and by the acceptance Mauro’s family has offered me from the very beginning.

And in that moment, I already know what decision I need to make.

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