Chapter 19 - The Sins of the Fathers
Two months later,
the sun was shining over a small villa in the south of Italy,
far from the gray slush of New York and the glass towers of greed.
Emma was running through a field of lavender,
her laughter carried on the warm Mediterranean breeze.
She had a new hat,
a bright yellow one,
and her coat was no longer broken.
She was no longer hungry.
I sat on the stone porch,
watching her through the steam of my coffee.
Sarah was inside,
singing a song I didn't recognize,
a sound of peace that I still struggled to understand.
My phone buzzed on the table—
a burner phone,
the only link to the life I had left behind.
It was a message from Chen.
"The last of the Council's assets have been seized."
"The ledger is in the hands of someone who cannot be bought."
"The city is changing,
Moretti."
"Perhaps it is time for the Lion to sleep."
I didn't reply.
I deleted the message and crushed the phone under the heel of my boot.
I looked at my hands again.
They were clean,
mostly.
But I knew that somewhere,
in a dark corner of a city I used to own,
someone was talking about the Moretti Crown.
Someone was wondering where the man went who burned down the Glass Tower for a little girl's sandwich.
I stood up and walked into the lavender field,
the smell overpowering and sweet.
Emma saw me and ran toward me,
her arms wide,
her face glowing with a joy that was the only thing I had ever truly earned.
"Look,
King!"
she shouted,
pointing to a butterfly that had landed on her finger.
"It's not afraid of me!"
I knelt down,
the dirt of Italy under my knees,
and looked at the fragile,
beautiful thing she held.
"It knows you’re a friend,
Emma,"
I said.
"It knows you’re safe."
"Are you safe too?"
she asked,
her blue eyes searching mine with a wisdom that still surprised me.
I looked back at the villa,
at the life I had built on the ruins of a war.
"I’m safe,"
I said,
and for the first time,
I didn't feel like I was lying.
I picked her up and swung her around,
her laughter drowning out the echoes of the gunfire and the screams of the past.
The war was over.
The hunger was gone.
May you like
The girl who had walked into my bakery had not only survived;
she had saved the soul of the man who owned it.
