CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Sacrifice
Six Months Later — Verona, November 1995
“ Signora Battaglia, benevenuto , please we have been waiting.”
Mirabella nodded her greeting to the gentlemen in the room. She and Catalina were given a seat at the table. It all felt very clinical and formal. It was nothing even close to that for her. This meeting had been on her heart and mind for months.
“How was your trip?”
“Bene, grazie ,” she said.
Catalina reached under the table and touched Mirabella’s hand. She gave it a reassuring squeeze. When she glanced to her sister in-law she felt her support recharge her. She could do this. She had to do this. For the sake of Lorenza she would not be turned away.
“How is she?” Catalina asked.
“Let’s begin,” the man at the center of the five gathered cut in on the pleasantries. “I’m Dr. Luigi Galvani, I’m the Sovrintendente here at Our Lady Blessington and this is my team. Your sister arrived here four months ago suffering from depression.”
“But she wasn’t supposed to be brought here. We left her in the care of St. Christopher’s Families Health facility. And then suddenly she disappeared. We’ve been looking for her. Why was she moved, and why weren’t we informed?”
“We will get to that. As I was stating her depression worsened after a staff member mentioned her husband in conversation. Her reaction, the accusations, and violence toward the staff required that she and her child be monitored very closely.”
“Lorenza? Was she hurt?”
“No, but we had our concerns. Your sister doesn’t allow anyone near the child in her presence. She prefers solitude. The girl doesn’t interact with the other children without her watchful presence.”
“So there are children here?” Mirabella asked.
“We deal with many family issues that overwhelm St. Christopher’s, but we focus on mental health here.”
“She wasn’t supposed to be at St. Christopher’s two months or this long. You moved her without my permission. She’s my sister. I’m here today to have her released. I know you’ve heard from my attorneys. She’s going to America and—”
“I’m afraid she will not be released to you, Signora Battaglia .”
Mirabella frowned. “What is going on here?”
“We have gone to the repubblica and taken guardianship over your sister.”
“What!” Catalina exclaimed.
“Why did you do that? My husband arranged for her to get some rest and to reconnect with her daughter. St. Christopher was never a long term plan for her. I’m here to demand my sister be turned over to me!”
The Superintendent opened a folder and removed a signed document. He pushed it over to Mirabella. Catalina scooted in closer to read the document as well.
“Three weeks after she arrived from St. Christopher she entered group therapy. Your husband indicated she dealt with grief over the loss of a loved one. And some delusions.”
“Delusions?” Catalina repeated.
“In therapy she told a wild story of kidnappings to Africa, living in a house made of lemons, and swimming with sharks in Greece. Her delusions got darker. She talked of death, the mafia burning her husband on a boat after shooting up his body. The diagnosis from her doctor is here. We became even more concern after she arrived and then tried to escape with Lorenza. So we put her on medication. She hasn’t responded well. She’s gone from catatonic to full on hysterical. She thinks she is communication with your mother. She talks to her often. We’ve now had to separate her from the child as the only way to gain control of her mental stability and calm her. But she is very violent.”
The doctor removed another document and slid it over.
“Last week she stabbed a nurse in the eye with a plastic fork she’d sharpened. And the week before she threw her hot coffee into the face of a director here at the facility. He suffered second degree burns. I have to share with you that things have gone beyond our control.”
Mirabella looked over at Catalina. They were both horrified by the news. With Eve’s recovery and the drama in the family occurring right at the time of Marietta’s disappearance from St. Christopher she had not fought hard to find her. She’d driven Marietta mad. Just as her grand-aunt had gone mad.
“We paid St. Christopher to take care of her. You’ve made it worse.”
“Please read the prognosis. She has rage issues and she suffers from PTSD. We are unable to discern what is truth over what is not.” The doctor narrowed his eyes on Mirabella. “Let me be clear, Signora Battaglia . This is Verona, not Napoli. We don’t care about your husband’s criminal ties. We care about patients. That is why we did not contact you. We know that this trauma started with the Battaglias.”
“Release her to me,” Mirabella demanded.
“I will not do that.”
“You have no choice!” Catalina said.
“I do, your husband signed her care over to St. Christopher and they have signed her care over to me. So we’ve made a decision. A medical one. You can take the child, but Marietta Battaglia will be sent to Maddalena .”
Catalina gasped. “You can’t do that.”
“What is Maddalena ?” Mirabella asked.
“A mental institution in Naples. A big one, it’s for the really insane. She can’t go there, Mirabella. It’ll kill what left of her.”
“I’m not committing my sister doctor.”
“There will be a hearing if you contest. And we will share with the authorities all of the stories that your sister has shared with us. You can stand in front of the repubblica and explain fact from fiction, but the transfer is final.”
“How much?” Catalina asked. “Don’t pretend this place runs on good intention. How much to release her to us?”
“This meeting is over, ladies.” The doctor said with disgust.
“Wait! Please. A lot has happened to my family. We have been struggling to deal with extreme loss and like you said, trauma. It’s the only reason why I lost contact with my sister. I need to see her. Can I have that much?”
The doctor stared at her, and then Catalina.
“I think it would be good for you to see for yourself what has become of her. Maybe you will realize how deeply troubled she is, and work with us to get her adequate help. Dr. Brassavola will take you to the child while Dr. Stampi will arrange for you to see your sister.”
“When will she be moved to Naples?”
“We will move her at the end of the week.”
Catalina spoke through clenched teeth. “You’re not going to get away with this! I know what this is? My brother will—”
“That’s enough, Catalina. Thank you gentlemen.” Mirabella stood. She and Catalina were escorted out into a hall. Though they both wanted to speak, neither dared do so. Together they went downstairs to a hall that was filled with children’s laughter. The last time Mirabella saw Lorenza she was three months old. She would be nearly ten months old now.
A woman greeted them. They were introduced. And then taken to another room where they had Lorenza waiting. Mirabella and Catalina could not believe her beauty when they first saw her. Lorenza was walking. She waddled over to a toy chest holding her doll. She had jet-black curly hair that reached past her shoulders and skin the same tone of mocha brown that Eve had at her age. She retrieved something from the chest and then turned and looked up at them. Mirabella smiled. She was certain that Catalina did as well. Lorenza walked over to her play area with her doll under one arm and a ball in her hand.
“Oh my God, she’s so beautiful,” Catalina whispered.
“We will have her things brought down to you,” the woman advised and left. Dr. Brassavola remained.  Catalina walked over to Lorenza and got down on her knees. The little girl stepped back and observed Catalina curiously. After a moment she handed Catalina her doll. When Catalina accepted it Lorenza put her pacifier that was pinned to her dress back in her mouth and began to focus on the ball. It was all Mirabella could stand. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Lorenza looked up at her curiously. They were strangers.
“I’m your Zia Catalina. Can I hold you?” she asked.
Lorenza didn’t respond. Catalina picked her up and brought her close. She kissed Lorenza on the brow. “You are so sweet, such a beautiful little girl. I see mama and papa in you. Do you know that? You have them both.”
Lorenza pushed Catalina’s face away and wiggled to be free. She didn’t appear to like to be held. The baby girl picked up and threw her ball. It rolled over to Mirabella who picked it up. She stooped and held it out to Lorenza. Her niece looked at her and the ball. Mirabella tried to encourage her to come to her to play. Lorenza blinked twice and then turned and went back to the toy chest instead. The rejection felt like another nail in her heart.
“Signora Battaglia . She is ready,” Dr. Stampi said.
Catalina approached Mirabella who struggled with collecting herself and wiping her tears. She handed her the bag they brought with them. “Go. I’ll take care of Lorenza.”
“Shouldn’t I take her with me?” Mirabella looked to Lorenza. The little girl had now started to climb in the toy chest. She laughed through her heartache.
“Let’s not scare her, she doesn’t need to see Marietta if she’s upset. We’ll wait here.”
“Okay, I’ll send for you if Marietta is up to it.”
The doctor gave her a patient nod to follow. Mirabella left Catalina and Lorenza behind.
OUR LADY BLESSINGTON was not a mental institution. It dealt with health and wellness for mothers and children displaced because of trauma. When Mirabella first came up with her plan to save her sister, she proposed St. Christopher as the place Marietta and Lorenza could heal before transitioning them out of their life. It was supposed to be temporary. Then the tragedy with Eve and the fire nearly destroyed her and Giovanni. In the mix of it all Marietta was left forgotten.
Mirabella had no idea what state she would find her sister in. The resident hall she was taken to didn’t have women strapped in suicide chairs and strait jackets. Everyone moved freely and seemed to be pleasant. To keep her nervousness down, Mirabella heaved her bag on her shoulder and fiddled with her hands as she followed the doctor down another corridor before she arrived in a room that had to be her sister’s.
“She’s here. There,” the doctor said. He pointed to a closed door. “It’s the room she shared with her daughter. She spends most of her time there now. I’ve met with her. She’s expecting you.”
Mirabella accepted the explanation and braced herself for the confrontation of her life as she approached the closed door. She opened it slowly. Marietta was inside seated in a chair by the bed. And she didn’t look as Mirabella expected. She’d brushed her curly locs into a smooth ponytail. Though she wore no makeup her face was youthful, blemish free. She looked younger and healthier than she was when Mirabella last saw her. Marietta wore a plain yellow dress and white sweater. She was indeed waiting.
“Hi,” Mirabella said. She put the bag on the bed.
Marietta didn’t speak.
Mirabella was so nervous she struggled with saying anything more. Marietta was unwilling to make the situation or her sister comfortable. She glared openly.
In the bag Mirabella bought a photo album. She removed it. On the front of it she had quilted the cover with mementoes from Lorenza’s first few months with them. Inside were the daily photos she took of her during their separation. She handed it to Marietta. Her sister accepted the album and opened the book. She turned each photo page slowly after staring at the image of he daughter.
“I saw her. She’s gotten so big. And she’s gorgeous. When did she start walking? She’s only ten months.”
“She looks like her father,” Marietta quipped.
Mirabella pressed her lips together to keep from offering an excuse. They were past apologies.
Marietta glanced up at her and then lowered her gaze back to the images. “Why did you do this? Take these pictures?”
“The moment I had her with me I knew she only wanted to be with you. I didn’t want you to miss those months. I wanted to preserve her for you.”
“Because you felt guilty?”
“Because I love you, and Lorenza,” Mirabella said.
“Just not Lorenzo?” Marietta asked and tossed the photo album aside. “Right?”
“What do you want me to say?” Mirabella sighed. “You were there for all of it. We’ve had this discussion.”
“Nothing. I don’t want an apology tour through all the things that you didn’t do to save my husband’s life.”
“The doctors told me you tried to hurt yourself—”
“Bullshit! Bullshit! I did not!” Marietta stood. “I tried to hurt them.” She pointed at the door.  And they took my baby from me. Now they justify it by saying I’m insane. I’m very sane Mira. And I got a story to tell.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Marietta crossed her arms. “No. I’m not stupid. I could never threaten the Donna Nera of la Camorra. Never,” she said with a mocking smile. “I’m just telling you facts. I have nothing to lose now. Not anymore.”
“I’m going to get you out of here.”
Marietta scoffed. “No you’re not. You came to take my baby. Right?”
“I—”
“I called you. I called you several times. But your King wouldn’t let me speak to you.”
“I didn’t know.”
“If you had been woman enough to return my call I would have told you to come sooner to take her.”
“You want me to have Lorenza?”
“Lola. She answers to Lola. And yes. I want you to have her. I don’t want my fucking daughter locked up in some looney bin with me. Why would I want that?”
“She’s your baby and this was temporary.”
Marietta tossed a bitter laugh.
Mirabella tried a different approach. “They are sending you to Maddalena . It’s an insane asylum. We can’t let that happen to you or Lorenza. I am going to work with Gio to get you released and we intend to send you back to America. It... it was what Lorenzo wanted.”
Marietta laughed. She laughed until she teared. “You aren’t sending me any damn where. I don’t belong to you. And you sure as hell can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
“Do you understand what I’m saying? They think you are crazy. They are taking you away from us to lock you up in some place where we can’t help you.”
“No. No. No. No. They are taking me away from you. Giovanni can’t control me in Maddalena . I’m escaping. And when I’m free, I’m taking back what you took from me.”
“You know these people don’t want to help you.”
Marietta shrugged. “I will never trust you again. Ever. I wanted to see you to your face when I tell you that I will give her up, for now. I wanted to see your face when I tell you that I will go into hell for now. Because I will pay any price to get my revenge against you,” she said in a sweet, almost soft whisper. “Any price.”
“So this is all an act? You putting Lorenza through this as an act?”
“I love my baby!”
“She needs you now. If you let them commit you to an insane asylum in this country, you will lose your sanity. Do you understand? This is not the way. We can get you out of here and back in America. Help you start over.”
“I don’t trust you to help me! And even if I did it’s too late!” Marietta shouted at her. She clenched her fists. “You destroyed my life. All of it. You think that photo album makes up for it? You think I will ever forget what you did to him? You are dead to me. You are not my sister. Do you understand? Dead!”
“Then why give Lorenza to me?”
Marietta smirked. She crossed her arms to the front of her and gave nothing but a smug look of satisfaction. Mirabella shook her head in sadness. Maybe the doctors were right and she had gone insane. She glanced over to the bag she left and then to Marietta. “I brought it all. I brought mama’s journal and record. Read it. See what her sacrifice really looks like. And maybe you’ll understand.”
“You hear that mama?” Marietta said to no one in the room. “She’s trying to manipulate me through you. What? Oh, don’t worry mama, she doesn’t fool me. Not one bit.”
“Who are you talking too?”
“Get out! Take Lola to your palace and stay the fuck away from me!”
“I did what I could for you. I will still try.”
“Fuck you and your lies,” Marietta said and sat back down. 
“What do I tell your daughter?”
“Tell her you killed her father and destroyed her mother. Tell her the truth.”
Mirabella bit back her own tears and walked out on the only sister she would have. The relationship was over. She knew that now.
Aversa, Italy  - One Week Later
AT Maddalena insane asylum life moved at a snail’s pace for Marietta. Confined to one room for months she didn’t know the day, or the hour that she got her first taste of freedom. So when it came she didn’t trust it. Not until she could feel the sun on her face. She walked out of the facility in Verona to a waiting passenger van. She wasn’t alone. Two burly men and a nurse accompanied her. Marietta had braced for the seven-hour drive to the small township of Aversa that was situated between Capua and Naples. In her lap was all that was left in the world of her mother. If there was even a measure of love left in her soul for her sister, it was reserved for this one act of kindness. Because truthfully her sanity was in question. She knew her mother was dead. Yet she saw her constantly. She knew Lorenzo was dead. Yet, she dreamed he would come home to her. It was madness.
She missed her baby girl the most. She cried every moment they kept them apart. But she knew she’d never get the revenge Giovanni and Mirabella deserved if she didn’t make the sacrifice.
Marietta fell asleep somewhere between Rome and Naples. When she woke they were driving into a hamlet that looked semi-familiar beneath a setting sun. She gave her handlers no problems. She was careful to be respectful of their commands. She didn’t want the one called Bruna to medicate her. She needed to be clear headed.
When they brought her in they took her bag from her. Bruna assured her that things would be put in her room. Part of Marietta believed her, but she knew the cruelty of men and women now. If her own family had betrayed her she had no illusions that Bruna and the staff would treat her any differently. Still she kept her cool.
The intake process dragged on. She wasn’t forced into a uniform but advised of the dress code and the rules of Maddalena . Privileges would have to be earned. And until the doctors felt she was deserving, there would be no outside visitors or phone calls. Marietta smirked. She had no intention of staying more than a few days there. But she played the part that was expected.
Later that evening after eating in a chamber hall filled with drooling and screaming mental patients she was marched to her room. It was as small as a jail cell. There wasn’t even a television. But her things were there. She turned to complain but the door was slammed and locked. Marietta looked up to the only light source coming in. A window ten feet above her showered her with moonlight. She felt the doubt creep in. Was she wrong? Had she been wrong? She prayed to God she wasn’t. She fell asleep holding the photo album of her baby girl close to her heart.
“Marietta Battaglia!” a voice barked above her. The woman was even more intimidating than Bruna. She was taller, leaner, with a face so stern she looked as if it were carved from stone. Especially her dark eyes. She smiled, but her eyes and the rest of her face didn’t change. It was as if it were a shifting in the mask she wore.
“You have a visitor.”
All of the dread and fear drained from her. She was okay. She was going to be okay.
“Wash up!” the woman tossed a plastic bag with a uniform and toiletries. “You have fifteen minutes.”
Marietta was led to the shared bathroom and forced to shower like an inmate. She was watched by two guards as she did. She didn’t complain. This was her sacrifice. She hurried the process of grooming, excited to meet her guest. And when she was ushered to the next room to receive him he appeared to her like a savior.
“Signora Battaglia, at last. I came as soon as I was told you were brought in. Please, sit.”
The chair was pulled out for her. A glass of water was put on the table with a pitcher. The Generale flashed her a charming smile.
“Generale Altoviti, I knew you would keep your promise.”
The Generale sat at the table. “I did, and I’m told you kept yours.”
“What I don’t understand is why it took this long. I know I had to leave St. Christopher because there were staff members loyal to Giovani. But you made me give them Lola. I promised Lorenzo before he died I would never let Gio and Mira have her. I don’t see the purpose.”
“But you will. And so will the courts. Because that is how you will get justice. You are a brave woman, Signora .”
“I don’t need your flattery. I want out of this place and I want my daughter like you promised me. Each day I’m away from her... I need you to make that happen as soon as possible.”
The Generale gave her another nod of understanding. “I have more paperwork for you to sign.” He glanced to the man at his left. A folder was put before her with a long legal document. Marietta snatched the pen and signed every single page without reading any of it.
“You know your husband was not innocent. He believed in the tenants of Omertà,” the Generale said. He took the documents and smiled at the signatures. “It’s one of the reasons we have spent close to fifty years fighting this war against the Neapolitan Camorra with little success. No one breaks the code of silence. That is until now. Women, they are the keepers of secrets. The ones left when Patriarchy falls. Many men in the old testament took advice and directions from women. Did you know that? David, Joab, even Solomon bowed to his mother Bathsheba and gave her the throne. In the old testament women were used by God for their wisdom and respected by men...”
“This isn’t bible study. I don’t need a theological lesson.”
“You see the old testament versus the new is why the Camorra exists after over a hundred years. We don’t understand or respect the teachings of the past in the law. I do. I believe in both. And I believe that women, you women, were the key to the kingdom all along. You live by a code of love and faith, not to the Camorra, but to your husbands. His death will be avenged and with your help, Giovanni Battaglia will face a firing squad for what he has done to hundreds of women, men and children. That is justice.”
“I want out of this place now. And I want my daughter and the protective custody you promised me. I’ve given my statement, including dates, and every crime my husband whispered in my ears. You know it all now. I’ve done what you asked.”
The Generale nodded. He smiled. “Yes you have. And I am going to honor our agreement. Just not at the pace you expect.”
Marietta frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means the wheels of justice do turn slow. I am not judge and jury. I will gather my evidence and make my arrests. And when we have Giovanni Battaglia where we want him, you will be more than willing to deliver the testimony that seals his fate.”
“What! See it through! I’ve already given you the evidence. He and my sister both should be arrested, now!” Marietta slammed her fist on the table.
“Some of what you shared I can prove, most of it I can’t.” The Generale stood.
“No! That’s not our deal. I came here, I committed myself to this place to break the chain on my neck they had on me. So you could free me!”
“The doctors have concerns. This could all be the rantings of a delusional grief stricken widow. Who knows? We don’t even have Lorenzo Battaglias body” The Generale shrugged.
“You motherfucker!” Marietta shot up. The guard lunged forward and grabbed her arm before she could charge the Carabinieri official. “This is not our agreement!”
“You are the only valuable witness I have against a criminal organization that has terrorized my Campania for over a century. Not only will I ensure your loyalty to me and the repubblica but I will keep you safe from them. Giovanni may control the streets but I have a firm grip of Maddalena. So you will stay here, until the only thing you can stomach is the revenge and hate you have for them. There will be no compassion, and no second thoughts. When your chain is broken you will beg me to testify before the world and you will destroy the Battaglias publicly. Celebrate, signora. We are about to see the end of the Camorra thanks to you.”
“You fucking liar! We had deal,” Marietta broke down in tears. “You swore to me you would help me! You can’t keep me in here, away from my baby. You promised.”
The Generale smiled as Marietta kicked and screamed. Two guards had to restrain her. “You can’t do this to me.” Marietta shouted her rage. She managed to free herself from one jailer but the other one grabbed her and threw her into the wall. She hit her head on the hard surface and was temporarily stunned. When she came to seconds later, she was being dragged from the room. She was too dazed to say what she meant to say. To warn the Generale that she would not break for him. It was too late.
In her room she was strapped to the bed and given a drug that immediately pushed her deeper into darkness. The only rebellion left in her was the tears slipping from her closed lids. How much more did she have to suffer to be free? And when she was free she’d remember her list of enemies and come for them all. The Generale, too.
Someplace in Russia
THERE WAS LITTLE FIGHT left in him. It was possibly due to the unrelenting cold. In his life he had never known cold to be so cruel and debilitating as he did now. Lorenzo was bodily thrown into dank chamber. The shove so hard he hit the concrete wall at a speed he didn’t think humanly possible. And he crumbled down to the floor, shivering. If he had clothes, he could withstand it. Naked, he was bare and suffering.
“Yebanko!” Laughed the Russian.
His tormentor, picked up a large pail near door. Lorenzo braced himself for what he knew would follow. The bastard let go a deep belly laugh as he splashed him with water. In the cold the water felt like battery acid. He groaned in pain.
The Russian spat at him and then crouched so he and Lorenzo could be eye to eye. “I speak in English,” he taunted.
“Here in Russia we say ‘Hui s gory (Хуй с горы )’ in English you would say it means ‘a penis from the mountain’. But what it really means is ‘a guy who just appeared from somewhere and nobody knows who he is’. That is you. No clan, no family, no name, no soul. You are nothing. So we will call you Хуй с горы . And every other week, we will play. And no one will care, not for the man from nowhere.”
Lorenzo put his back against the wall. The eye-patch he wore made his vision very slighted. But there was little to see, his enemy face didn’t matter. And the mind games didn’t work. He was built to survive hell. And that was his only goal, survival.
“See you in a week,” the Russian chuckled and left.
The door opened, closed, and locked. Lorenzo glanced over to his bunk. There was a blanket and a thin grey shirt with long drawstring pants. No socks or shoes for the ice block of a floor he had to stand or sit on. Nothing else. And so it went. Every other week he was stripped to nothing and tortured by one bastard then a different bastard, or maybe the same bastard. It was hard to know. He just endured. The following week he was given the bare essentials. Not for compassion. He learned it was how the Russians dealt with torture. Something sweet, then something sour, until your mind snapped and began to get used to the taste of it all.
Shivering hard with black and purple bruises over his body and even the bottoms of his feet, he managed to stand. He limped over to the cot and picked up the blanket to dry himself. He couldn’t last long in the frigid cold wet. He then slipped on the clothes that offered no warmth. He laid the blanket out flat to let the cold dry it. Food would be denied for the night, but he did say a silent prayer for water. If he had water he would be okay.
Lorenzo eased down on the cot and laid back. The moment he did he closed his eyes. The cold did one thing for certain. It numbed his body and the pain became one ache instead of multiple aches all over. For that he was grateful. With eyes closed he tried to force away the horrors he endured for the weeks. He only broke twice, for the most part he withstood. Soon his thoughts drifted to his wife. She was back in America raising their little girl. She was safe. He knew Giovanni kept his promise and saw to it. For that he was grateful. For Marietta and Lorenza whatever happened to him was worth it.
Maddalena , Italy
“LET ME OUT!” MARIETTA screamed. She beat her fist against the door. She screamed and screamed until her voice went hoarse and her throat felt like it would bleed down into her stomach. “I’m not supposed to be here!”
She slumped to the floor. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
Marietta drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. She buried her face against her knees. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
“Mary?” a soft voice spoke.
Marietta slowly lifted her head and looked up into her mother’s eyes.  She shook her head no. “You’re not real. You’re not real.”
“Shhh,” her mother said. “Doesn’t matter that I’m not real. I’m here. I’m with you.”
“Why? I need Lorenzo,” Marietta wept. “Why you! I don’t fucking need you!”
Her mother smiled. She nodded that she understood. She dropped her face to her knees and cried until she couldn’t any longer. When she lifted her head she saw she was alone. Marietta wiped at her tears and the snot that dripped from her nose. She forced herself up from the padded floor and went to the bed. She lay on it and drew up into the fetal position. She closed her eyes and thought of Lorenzo. She prayed the first bullet put him to eternal sleep and he was no alive when the boat burned. She prayed that he was with her mother, and his real mother. That he had finally found peace. Marietta calmed. Lorenzo was at peace. He was gone. She had to accept the truth because Lola was all they had left. She’d gambled her daughters future on the hope for revenge. Now she had to fight for her life and Lola’s. And she would. She just didn’t know how.