Chapter 2

When I left Florence, all I had was a suitcase and a laptop. The mafia asshole who drove me back to my dorm didn’t give me much time to pack, so I just stuffed as many clothes as I could into a bag.

My roommate wasn’t around when I left, so I wrote him a note:

Had to leave town. I won’t be back.

Take whatever stuff of mine you want and throw the rest away.

Marcello

Since it was a dorm room, he wasn’t responsible for my half of the rent. All he had to do was tell the university I’d skipped town, so I wasn’t concerned about leaving him in the lurch.

And while it would piss me off to lose my friends at university, I wasn’t that torn up about it. They were mostly just drinking buddies.

I’d broken up with my girlfriend two weeks ago after only dating for a couple of months. We hadn’t spoken since, so that was no big deal.

It was losing Mama, Gemma, and Edoardo that killed me.

Fausto had agreed I could send one email. Once I was aboard the train, I connected to my new iPhone as a hot spot. During the three-hour trip from Florence to Naples, I stared at my laptop and tried to figure out what to say.

Hi Mama,

Guess what? You weren’t the only one Papa screwed over.

A mafia thug said I had to leave town or he’d kill you, Gemma, and Edoardo.

See you one day… hopefully.

That was the gallows humor version I didn’t write.

There were a thousand other variations I eventually decided against.

In the end, as the train was approaching Naples, I finally settled on what I wanted to say.

Hi Mama,

I got into some trouble and had to leave Florence.

You can’t help me, so don’t bother trying.

I don’t have my phone anymore, so there’s no point calling.

And I won’t be answering any emails.

Just know I love you.

Tell Gemma and Edoardo I love them, too.

Marcello

Before I sent it, I stared at the photograph Fausto had given me – the picture of the three of them eating gelato and laughing.

The asshole’s words echoed in my memory:

If you contact any of your family… terrible things will happen. I’ll start with your little sister. Your first infraction will merit a broken arm. You don’t want to know what the second infraction will be. Understood?

This email was the only thing my mother would ever get from me… the only closure she would ever have.

I hoped it would be enough.

As the train rolled into the station, I tucked the picture inside my jacket pocket…

Finally pressed ‘Send’…

Closed my laptop…

And shut the door on everything I’d left behind.

Ten minutes later, I stumbled out onto the streets of Naples…

And into my new life.