For one second, I doubt I heard him correctly.
“Nero wasn’t lying… Mia?”
My reply comes out as a question because I need him to deny it.
I look at the girl made of flames, an orphan her entire life while somewhere in the world she still had family.
Tears wet my face, and I realize my entire body is trembling with rage.
Every filthy emotion inside me is directed toward Mia Sartori, who never had enough courage to face her monsters.
She chose to run.
To die in the eyes of the Cosa Nostra and in the eyes of her daughters.
What kind of f*****g unjust world is this?
I know none of us is the same.
I know we don’t possess equal strength or courage.
I know that.
Our weaknesses are as unique as our strengths.
Maybe Mia escaped in a moment of vulnerability, but why did she never return?
