in the breeze, the kettle hissing softly, her mother's hands rhythmically pe

r said, glancing up with a ti

w. Her feet felt heavy as if her ankles were ti

up and hugged her waist. "Di

stroking the girl's tan

r across from her, his eyes shadowed wi

today," she

ell like

ed the peeler. "

d. "He gave

tched into the lines of his

upted gently. "You d

med with tears. "And w

spered. "Three days from

nding. "You're getting marr

answe

shaking her head. "No... this

worn wood of the table. "And I can survive losin

his head. "I'm

ed his hand. "Then make this worth it.

she s

at a moment long

ry a mobster didn't have