Flowering Tree
I was born in the slums with nothing to my name, yet somehow, I once saved the most dangerous man in all of Sicile.
In a crumbling shack, I treated his wounds while he patched the leaks in my roof whenever it rained. Later, he pulled me out of that miserable life and brought me into the heavily guarded estate of a mafia family. Together, we even had a son. However, seven years had passed, and he still had never publicly acknowledged either our child or me, all because my background was too lowly.
Gabriele Carlos once told me that as long as our son proved himself exceptional enough, the family would eventually accept him. So even at only seven years old, my son pushed himself desperately hard to study languages, etiquette, and even firearms training.
On his birthday, he was burning with fever, his little face pale, yet he still came out as the top student in his grade. Holding his award certificate tightly in his hands, his eyes shone brighter than I had ever seen.
“Ma, Papa’s finally going to acknowledge me this time, isn’t he?”
So, I took the certificate and went to look for Gabriele at his residence. However, through the heavy doors, I overheard him discussing a wedding with the daughter of another mafia family. They talked about the wedding date, the alliance between their families, and how the territories and profits would be divided afterward.
Then, someone suddenly asked, “What about her and the child?”
After a brief silence, Gabriele answered calmly, “Just keep them hidden.”
Those words struck me hard. So the seven years my son and I had spent waiting meant nothing at all. We had only been fooling ourselves, believing things would change.
Well, Gabriele might want us hidden, but unfortunately for him, I was done hiding.