Chapter 22: Her Father's Grave

Sabina's POV

My father's stone was small and plain, in the cemetery on Richmond Road, with the grass cut short around it.

Nobody had come to it in a long time, except me, twice, on his birthday, with Remo at the gate.

Emilio stood beside me on his cane in the cold.

I had a bunch of yellow chrysanthemums, because my father used to grow them on the fire escape.

I put them on the grass and said my father's name out loud.

It was the first time I had said it in front of anyone since the wedding.

"Papà," I said. "Nobody holds your name over us now. I'm sorry it took me so long to come and say it."

Emilio's face twisted.

He took out the folded paper from his sweater and turned it over in his hands.

"He gave me this," he said. "The house. He gave it to me to hold for you."

"I know. I watched him."

"I don't want a Falzone house."

"Then don't keep it."

"What do you want to do with it?"

I looked at the paper.

I had lived in that house for three years like a guest who had overstayed.

I thought of the garden door and the leather chair under the stairs.

I thought of my own room, and the night I turned the key from the inside.

"Not yet," I said. "Keep it in your pocket. Ask me in a year."

"Sabi."

"I'm not going to be told where I live, Emilio, not by him and not by a piece of paper."

"So?"

"I'm renting two rooms on Fingerboard Road, over the bakery. I signed the lease on Monday."

My brother stared at me.

"You're leaving him."

"No."

"You just said..."

"I'm not leaving." I heard how it sounded, and I tried again.

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