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Prologue
Six Years Old
First, Daddy,and now Mommy’s gone,too,I think as I sit in the living room. Several people are here, at our house. All in black. Everyone looks sad. I’m sad, too.
I’m all alone.I have no one left.
“You’ll always have me,” Dom says as he sits next to me on the couch.
How could he always read my mind?
I look at my blond-haired, blue-eyed, too-tall-to-only-be-eleven-years-old step-brother, “Promise?”
He places his hand over mine in my lap. “Sempre.” He kisses my forehead.Always.
After the funeral, Papa had me come to his office, which he’s never done before. They’re yelling, but I don’t understand what they mean. Papa is arguing with the buff, dark-haired man I had seen earlier. I didn’t see his face. My vision is always blurry with tears now.
The day went by in a blur. I’m falling asleep in the chair as I wait. Why won’t he let me go to bed yet?
“You have to put her first!” the man yells from the other side of the door.
“What do you think I’m doing, Bo? You think this is easy! I have to!” Papa yells back.
They speak in hushed tones. I only hear raspy whispers, then the door springs open. My gaze is focused on the floor when the dark-haired man gives me a hug, but I still don’t look at his face. When the man leaves, only then does Papa’s face soften before he speaks.
“Let’s go in.” He gestures with his arm for me to walk into the office. I sit on the couch by the fireplace. He follows and bends down to his haunches, giving me a long hug before he grabs my face with both hands and kisses my cheeks. I look at his face, and it looks like his eyes are full of water.
“Mia dolce bambina.”My sweet little girl, he says. “This is very important. You are going to live with a new family in New York.”
I knew it. He was going to send me away. I’m not his daughter.
“You don’t want me anymore now that mommy is gone?” I ask him, casting my gaze down as my eyes well up with tears.
“No, amore mio.”My love. He holds the sides of my arms before he continues. “That’s not why. It’s not safe for you anymore in Chicago.”
“I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with you and Dom and Donna. I’ll be good, I promise,” I sob.
“I wish you could, but I need to keep you safe. Do you understand?” he tells me, holding my cheeks, wiping my tears with his thumbs.
I shake my head. Papa is the only father I’d ever known. Daddy was murdered when I was just a baby.
“You must be strong, bambina. Do this for me. You are going to live with your new parents in New York City. It is the only way I can keep you safe. Can you be strong for me?”
“Will I ever see you again?” I ask, sobbing.
“Of course.” He chuckled. “We will visit you often, and you’ll still spend summer holiday with us. This breaks my heart, but it is the safest.” He squeezes my hands.
“Okay.” I nod, taking a deep breath. “I can be strong.”
I want to be, at least.
“That’s my girl. Now, this part is very important. You must listen to me.” He lifts my chin with his finger. “You can never let anyone know who you are. Ever. Under any circumstances.”
“But—”
“What did I say about being strong?”
I nod. “I will be strong.”
