No Second Chances for Love

han Cole, and my father, Ricardo, was a beloved philanthropist, hosting toni

His face, once full of warmth, was cold, hard. He arrested my father, revealing him as "El Martillo," a narcotics t

chitect of this destruction, a cold, calculating agent who had used me. His "I love yous" were just part of his "task." In the hospital, the

alization was a bitter pill. Hope turned to ash. But as I replayed the horrifying scene, a tiny memory surfaced: my fat

gravings: "7710. S.M. My real name." Sarah Miller. My mother. A cop. Killed in the line of duty. By my father. The nai