Chapter 19 - The Weight of Choice
My mother had packed our few belongings with frantic joy, thrilled to be escaping the mafia's shadow once and for all.
I stood in the grand foyer, holding a small duffel bag, feeling completely hollowed out.
The armored SUV was idling in the driveway, the same one that had kidnapped me just a few short weeks ago.
Rosa stood near the door, holding Leo.
The baby was unnaturally quiet, his big, solemn eyes fixed on my face with an expression of pure devastation.
He knew I was leaving.
"Come on, Mara," my mother urged gently, linking her arm through mine.
"Our new life is waiting."
I took a step toward the door, my cheap work shoes making a soft scuffing sound against the marble floor.
Suddenly, Leo let out a cry.
It wasn't the angry, demanding wail of a hungry baby.
It was a broken, desperate, shattered sound—a sound of pure heartbreak.
He reached his tiny arms out toward me, twisting violently in Rosa's grip, crying so hard his little face turned purple.
My heart stopped.
I dropped my duffel bag onto the floor.
The sound echoed loudly in the cavernous foyer, a heavy, final punctuation mark on my old life.
"Mara?" my mother asked, confused.
"I can't," I gasped, the realization hitting me with the force of a freight train.
"I can't leave him, Mom."
"And I can't leave Dante."
I turned away from the open door and the promise of a safe, quiet life in Switzerland.
I practically ran to Rosa, taking the sobbing baby from her arms and holding him tightly against my chest.
Leo buried his face in my neck, his tiny hands gripping my shirt like a lifeline, his cries instantly quieting into soft, wet hiccups.
"You belong to me, little dragon," I whispered into his hair, tears streaming down my smiling face.
"I'm not going anywhere."
My mother watched me for a long moment before letting out a soft, resigned sigh.
She picked up her own bag, but instead of walking out the door, she walked over to Rosa.
"I suppose I'll need to learn where you keep the good coffee," my mother said to the stern housekeeper.
Rosa actually smiled, a genuine, warm expression that changed her entire face.
"I will show you," Rosa replied.
I didn't wait for them to finish talking.
I turned and walked toward the sweeping marble staircase, carrying my son, going to find my husband.
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I knew exactly what choice I had made.
I chose the fire.
