Marked by the Mafia king

comforts or soothes you back to sleep. This quiet was loud,

om lying in the same position for too long. The motel blanket scratched against my skin, and my wed

hing inside me felt bruised. My h

eft

o

o

ice cracked like it didn't belo

innocent eyes locked on mine. She looked so happy fo

through for me, especially when it came to Rosa.

. I looked haunted. My red hair was tangled, my makeup smudged, an

e I

lp throbbed, a dull reminder of everything I had tried to be for a man I never loved. I wasn'

didn't make m

or how we got there. The blood on our clothes wasn't ours, but it told a story no one could explain. They sai

ing, the feeling of someone's hand gripping mine so tight it hurt. I

as trauma. Tha

am. But it never felt like anything a

ect Rosa without asking for anything in return. I remember stealing extra bread rolls at night. Hiding under

ne day, Ros

dn't stop. I remember sitting beside her hospital bed, holding her hand so tightly my knuckle

't have

ves. I didn't care. I just needed the money. Rosa deserved more than the system ever gave her. She w

ightly and let the cold air sting my face. The streets below were empty

e tracking me. Not L

nel's bodyguards had grabbed me too hard at the rehearsal dinner when I s

tograph, the one of me and Rosa at the county fair, laughing like we didn't know the world cou

family, with roots, with som

the photo

ou, Rosie," I whisper

ssian wouldn't let m

no one was looking. I hadn't even opened it until I was halfway down the street in that suffocating dress, my he

kne

ew I'

I moved to the chair by the window, curling up like I used to in the group homes

ng to mine in the ambulance. The taste of bile when they told me I c

iled bigger. I agreed to

And more importantly, he didn't ask. He wanted someone polished. I could

Money. A future Rosa coul

omething in m

e wedding, I stared at the ceil

ian begged me to

ugh I ha

nership. He was used to getting what he wan

yes a

ght it was wha

l, dressed in nothing but guilt an

t cry.

ord to cry unt

I had

opened the window a little more and let it fal

not even sure who

ack for you.

time, I