My hand had just touched the doorknob when my mother, Elisabetta Russo, spoke again from the other side. "She used to cry and throw tantrums all the time when she was little. Luckily, that little joke scared her into behaving."I fought back the hurt.What Mother called throwing tantrums had happened when I was only three or four years old.I'd been a sickly child, constantly running fevers. Some nights, my whole body ached so badly that I couldn't sleep, and I would go crying to Mother.But after learning that I'd been abandoned and taken in by the family, I never dared to bother her again. No matter how much pain I was in, I would curl up under my blanket and bite down on the corner of my pillow.I was terrified that if I caused too much trouble, they'd abandon me again.I opened the door. The living room was packed with my aunt, uncle, and several distant relatives.Christmas was just a few days away. By this time in previous years, the porch would already be decked out in Ch
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