/1/119743/coverbig.jpg?v=30c54e505488c10020698a2e25c9e487)
ed me from our estate, freezing my bank accounts
sister Isabella, or they would strip my Famiglia pr
or Donna Rosa, a revered underworld Matriarch, b
ntally arrived at their compound, I went ba
sabella poured scalding coffee over the document,
ystal decanter at her, and my parents violently shoved the eld
e white marble, my parents didn'
to steal our property, and you ar
ealization that their love was just a leash, and to them, I wa
red the unforgiving law of Omerta, and dialed the
pte
na
inked on the motel's card reader. From my telephone, my
beg your sister's forgiveness before the midnight bell, or I will strip the F
ed hollows, popped his chewing gum. He tapped a fingernail, the cuticle b
mademoiselle," he s
uselessness made it feel light, a flimsy rectangle o
upon my eighteenth birthday; they had, with the precision of surgeons, seve
lamb brought to a city of wolves, a city co
much a man as a gravitational force, one who had built his dominio
every corner of the city, their
was a blade held to the throat of every man, woman, and child. His word was the only law that held weigh
y parents knew precisely what became of unpro
ey were using the city's inherent let
s since I stood in the gran
r faces masks of contrived joy as they held my older sister, I
y's business, her eyes alight with the prospect of money
his gaze, cold and flat
around his jaw twitching as he spat the word "traitor
money over my own flesh and blood, b
arpets and peeling paint on the very edg
-two dollars in cr
ight in this airless room, let a
belly, a physical ache that made eac
erk's dismissive gaze and
ed on the
she hissed, her voi
sing as she accused me of caring
ise in my throat, ho
I saved for my tuitio
oor's old hinges, a sound like a nail being drawn
m the bottom of his throat,
ws, calling me an ungrateful creature who deserved
unts are your le
aws of Omerta, telling me I was t
to me, a chilling realization that this was
d protection, all their laundered mon
rk she considered beneath her. They needed me back-not as a daughter, but as a po
ated, my value less than that of a single ce
e in from the backgrou
ggle, sharp and brittle as break
arents had just purchased for her, a reward, she sai
e line w
my ear, the motion feeling sl
st the motel's grimy glass doors, out into the streets, which were not dark so
But somewhere in this labyrinth of shadows, there had to be a door that would open for a girl w

GOOGLE PLAY