The Sister They Loved, The Daughter They Lost

When I heard them rehearsing the story about the boy falling, I couldn't hold back a sneer.

"Don't mistake Don Moretti for a fool just because you are one. 'Falling.' Is that the word you've settled on? Do you really think you can bury what you did under something that thin?"

"Steel doesn't bend the way you need it to. You believe a bar like that just happens to snap, and just happens to find the only child in the room? Lie to the neighbors if you must. Don't insult yourselves."

Their faces changed, and the Falcones came crowding into my room, agitated, the cheap floorboards groaning under them.

A hand cracked hard across my face.

"I always knew you were useless. From now on you keep that mouth shut. If you breathe one word that ruins your sister's arrangement, I'll break your legs myself."

"You remember this. It was an accident, nothing more. Your sister pulled the Moretti boy out of harm's way out of the goodness of her heart. It's only right the Family pays us our due. And if they don't, they're the ones with no honor."

I cupped my stinging cheek and let out a dry laugh. Their shamelessness turned my stomach.

"So I'm useless for trying to earn an honest wage at the docks. But if I won't shake down a Don the way she does, I'm worthless."

"If money has to cost me my conscience, I'd sooner starve in the gutter."

My father's face went crimson. He snatched up the cracked ashtray from before and hurled it at my head again.

"Honest wage? What can you do, you? If your mother and I leaned on you, we wouldn't have the cash for our own burials!"

"Bad enough you're worthless, and now you've got the nerve to run your mouth about your sister? Look at yourself. What have you ever amounted to? Had I known, I'd have married you off for whatever dowry I could squeeze out of you."

Blood from the ashtray wound slid down my face, the heat of the infection searing into my skin, but my heart felt colder than ever.

"I'm your daughter, not some piece of merchandise to trade for tribute. If you despise me this much, why didn't you stop at Gemma? Why bring me into the world at all?"

For one flickering moment, panic crossed both their faces.

But before they could swing again, Gemma cut in, smug, twirling on her heel. "Don't waste your breath on her. She'll be poor her whole life. At the hospital she was already groveling, begging me to take her on at the front desk once I've got my own place set up. What else does a nothing like her have to offer?"

She laughed a half-beat too fast and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And did you catch the way Don Moretti looked at me today? That wasn't nothing. His wife's been in the ground for years. If he sends for me in the next few days, I just might catch his eye. And then forget a few thousand in tribute. I'll be set for life."

My parents burst out laughing, nearly bent double with it. They heaped praise on Gemma, calling her the pride of the family name.

But I was the only one who saw the truth. The way Lorenzo Moretti had looked at her was not admiration. It was suspicion, cold and patient, the look a man gives something he has already decided to dismantle.

If Gemma was reckless enough to cross the Moretti Family, ten lives wouldn't be enough to buy her back.

Blind to all of it, they kept singing her praises. They went and fetched the health tonics they'd laid in ahead of time, to help her recover from her "heroics."

Not once did their eyes drift toward me.

I stood there in silence, watching it play out, set on saying nothing more. My purpose was clear. I needed to cut the rope binding me to these people before it dragged me under with them.

Even as my lips curled into a mocking smile, my words cut deep:

"It turns my stomach, the way you look straight past the greed and the lies. Do you have any idea what you're setting yourselves up against?"

As I knew it would, the mood soured in an instant.

"Get out!" My father roared, the veins standing out in his neck. He grabbed the page that carried the family name, tore my name from it, and flung the scrap at me. "I won't keep a worthless daughter under this roof! Pack your things and go!"

My mother joined in, clicking her tongue, raking her eyes up and down me before the disappointment settled into her face.

Gemma, thumbing through her phone, didn't even glance up. With a scoff she added, "I was going to put you to work once my place is running, but seeing as you hate me so much, don't come crawling back when you've got nothing."

My goal was met. Smirking, I bent and picked up the torn scrap of the family name from the floor.

"One day you'll understand just how dangerous it is to meddle with the Moretti Family."

"When that day comes, we'll see who ends up on their knees, begging for mercy."

With that I walked out of the apartment and headed straight for the nearest pharmacy.

The clerk's eyes went wide at the sight of my bloodied head. She hesitated as she handed me the medicine, her voice trembling. "Miss, you really should let a hospital see to that."