Fazi

al was a se

ies. Corrupt politicians. Judges bought and paid for. The air sm

o was tailored to immaculate p

ith a diamond bracelet and a promise of a penthouse in Manhattan.

. She was running

onal, I

leaned in. "You l

said, adjusting my cu

ovement in t

k dress and a veil, as if she were atte

naline. Security was s

e. She mouthed t

my heart. She was a distra

heavy oak doors at the back

d my tie. I p

ood up. They

aisle wa

had already scattered their petals. They sat on the st

nutes

m of whispers that sounded li

. Don Vitiello was not looking at the door.

k

my pocket, ignoring the p

led E

t to vo

her mothe

a. "Go check th

ack two minutes lat

There's no dress.

hit me like a bu

asn't

sn't c

ive hundred people watched the Golden Boy

cathedral was lou