Mafia's Good Girl novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: The Card

"There is no charity fund," my mother said.

She set the card on the blanket.

"I was a school secretary for twenty-six years, Janelle."

"I know what a hospital program looks like. Nobody gives that kind of money to a woman with a bad valve."

"Mom."

"Who paid?"

I looked at the lilies.

"He did," I said.

My mother closed her eyes.

For a while the only sound was the monitor beside her bed, steady and small.

"Salvatore Ferrante killed your father," she said.

"I know that."

"Do you know why?"

I didn't answer.

"Eight years ago I had cancer, and we had no insurance," she said.

"Your father counted money in the back room on Fridays, along with the driving."

"He took eighty thousand dollars out of it over three months. For my treatment."

The monitor beeped.

"He told me the night before it happened. He knew they'd count it."

"No," I said. "He never took a dollar."

"He took eighty thousand."

"Mom, that's not-"

"He wasn't an honest man, Janelle."

Her green eyes opened and held mine.

"He was a good one. I've known the difference for six years, and I let you think the other thing because it was easier."

At the Marchetti table I had said it to thirty people.

In eleven years he never took one dollar.

My face burned.

"And now the son sends me lilies," Norma said. "What does he want from you?"

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