I Woke Up at the Altar and Said No to the Mob Heir Who Let Me Die, but He Remembers Too novel · Chapter 26 of 40

Chapter 26: The Anchor

"No," I said.

The prosecutor looked at me.

So did he.

"Not for me," I said. "You don't go to prison for me. I won't carry that up to New Hampshire."

The prosecutor closed her folder.

"Take the weekend," she said. "I'll be at my desk Monday."

She left.

Una got up with Nessa asleep on her shoulder and went to find a vending machine, loudly.

"Orla."

"You heard me."

"I heard you." He sat on the edge of the bed in the gown. "It isn't for you."

"Then who?"

He looked at the chair where Nessa had slept.

"In the other life she came home from Ireland at sixteen and found out what her name meant. Every bar on Broadway. Every cop. Every kid at school."

He turned his hands over and looked at the scars.

"I'm head of the family. If I walk away clean, the family's still there. Somebody picks it up. Some cousin. Maybe her, one day."

"She's five."

"So I end it while she's five. Before she knows there was anything to end."

I didn't have an answer.

"What happens to you?"

"I lose the house. The yard. The Anchor. My lawyer thinks no prison, if I give them everything." He lifted one shoulder. "My lawyer thinks a lot of things."

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