Even still, I move forward protectively, ready to catch her in case she loses her balance.
“Don’t stop talking,” she encourages. “I like listening to you.”
I shrug and let my hands fall by my sides, though I don’t stray far from her. “My parents bought me here when I was a little boy. Showed me around, told me what happened.”
“That’s morbid. Especially for a little kid.”
“Not in so many details,” I assure her. “Just enough so that I understood where I came from.”
“And where do you come from?”
“A long lineage of mafia royalty,” I reply solemnly. “Don after don after don. I was destined to be what I am from the day I was born.”
“Did you ever want anything else?” she asks curiously.
“Meaning?”
“Did you ever want to be anything other than… well, than what you are?”
I consider that a
