Chapter 18 - The Return
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Two years after the trial, I got a call.
Jake. His voice was tight.
"We have a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
"Mom's dead."
I sat down. Hard.
"What?"
"She was killed in prison. Someone got to her."
"Who?"
"We don't know. But it was professional. Clean. No witnesses."
I didn't know what to feel. Sadness? Relief? Nothing?
"When?"
"Last night."
"Does Karen know?"
"Not yet. I wanted to tell you first."
"Thanks."
"I'm sorry, Marcus."
"Don't be. She... she made her choices."
"I know. But she was still your mother."
"Yeah."
We hung up. I sat there. Staring at the wall.
Mom was dead.
I should feel something. But I didn't. Just... empty.
I called Karen.
"Hey."
"Hey. What's up?"
"Mom's dead."
Silence.
"Karen?"
"I heard you."
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know." Her voice was strange. "I don't know what I feel."
"Me neither."
"Someone killed her."
"Yeah."
"The people she worked for."
"Probably."
"What does that mean for us?"
I thought about it. The network. The people Mom was so afraid of.
"I don't know."
"We should be careful."
"We should."
"Marcus..."
"Yeah?"
"I'm scared."
"Me too."
We stayed on the phone. Neither of us talking. Just... breathing.
Together.
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The funeral was small. Just us. Jake. Sophie. Danny.
We buried her next to Dad. In the same cemetery. The same plot.
Karen stood over the grave. Silent.
"Are you okay?"
"No."
"Me neither."
She turned to me. Tears in her eyes.
"I wanted to hate her. I did hate her. But now..."
"She was still our mother."
"Yeah."
We stood there. Looking at the headstones.
Anthony DeLuca. Beloved father.
Rosalie DeLuca. Beloved mother.
Lies. Both of them.
But sometimes lies are all you have.
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