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Genesis’ screams pierce through the roar of the fire, a sound that will haunt me for years to come. Her parents are beside themselves, fighting against the police officers holding them back. Mrs. Alvarez’s face is streaked with tears, her voice hoarse as she begs someone, anyone, to save her daughter.
This is wrong. All wrong. Children should never be caught in the crossfire of our world. Her parents’ sins are not hers to bear. Gino Timpone has gone too far this time.
I hear a firefighter shouting orders, preparing to enter the inferno. But there’s no time. Genesis’ screams are getting weaker.
Without thinking, I sprint toward the burning building. Someone yells for me to stop, but I ignore them. The heat intensifies as I burst through the door, immediately assaulted by thick, black smoke.
The interior of the shop is unrecognizable. Flowers that once brought beauty and joy are now fuel for the raging fire. Glass shatters somewhere to my left, and I duck instinctively.
“Genesis!” I call out, my voice barely audible over the crackling flames.
Then I see her, curled into a tight ball in the corner, her body shaking with sobs and pain. Fire licks at her skin, and the sight makes my stomach lurch.
I rush to her, scooping her into my arms. As I turn to leave, a searing pain explodes across my back. The fire has melted through my shirt, burning my skin.
I grit my teeth against the agony, holding Genesis close. Her whimpers of pain fuel my determination. We have to get out. Now.
The smoke is thicker now, making it hard to breathe, hard to see. I stumble toward where I think the door should be, praying I’m going the right way.
The heat is unbearable, the roar of the fire deafening. But I push on, one step at a time. Genesis needs me. I can’t let her down.
Just when I think we’re lost, I see a faint glimmer of light. The exit. With one last burst of energy, I lunge forward, bursting out onto the street.
As fresh air hits my lungs, I hear shouts of relief. Paramedics rush toward us, and I gently lay Genesis down on a stretcher.
“You’re safe now,” I whisper to her, my voice rough from the smoke. “You’re going to be okay.”
As they wheel her away, the world starts to spin. The last thing I see before everything goes dark is Genesis’ parents, tears of gratitude streaming down their faces.
I jolt awake, covered in sweat, the phantom smell of smoke still in my nostrils. It takes me a moment to realize I’m in mybedroom, safe. The fire was years ago, but the memory still haunts me.
I run a shaky hand through my hair, trying to steady my breathing as my stomach churns with nausea. Glancing to my left, I see Fee sleeping peacefully beside me, blissfully unaware of the turmoil raging inside me.
The memory of that night—rescuing Genesis from the burning flower shop—is seared into my mind as permanently as the burn scars on my body. Besides losing my father, it’s the most traumatic thing I’ve ever experienced. And it still haunts my dreams.
Unconsciously, my hand moves to touch the patchy burn marks on my left shoulder and back. They’re a constant reminder of that night, of how close I came to dying. But they’re nothing compared to Genesis’ scars, which she’s chosen to cover with intricate tattoos.
I bring my knees up to my chest, trying to ground myself in the present. Inhale for four counts, hold for seven, exhale for eight. Repeat. It’s a technique I learned years ago to manage the panic attacks that followed the fire.
After a few minutes, when I feel like I can move without my legs giving out, I carefully get out of bed. I pull on my boxers and a shirt, wincing slightly as the fabric brushes against my scarred skin.
The balcony beckons, promising fresh air and open space. As I step outside, the cool night breeze washes over me, helping to clear the fog of memory from my mind. The New York skyline stretches out before me, a tapestry of lights against the dark sky.
I lean against the railing, letting the familiar sight of the city calm me. It’s been years since that night, but the impact it had on all our lives is still reverberating.
La Familia honored me for rescuing Genesis, elevating my status within the organization. But the backlash against theTimpones was swift and severe. They sent Gino away, banished from New York, never to return.
Until now.
The thought of Gino being back in the city, threatening Fee and Lou, makes my blood boil. I grip the railing tighter, my knuckles turning white. I won’t let him hurt anyone else. Not Genesis, not Fee, not Lou. Never again.
“Angelo?”
I turn to see Fee standing in the doorway. She’s wrapped in my robe, tightening it around her body as she steps onto the balcony. The sight of her, sleepy-eyed and concerned, makes my heart skip a beat.
“What are you doing up?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light.
She moves closer, lightly touching my arm. “I had a nightmare about Jonah taking Lou,” she admits. Up closer, I can see how pale her face is, how tears are still streaking down her cheeks. “When I woke up, I felt the cool air and saw you out here.” Her eyes search my face. “Angelo, what’s wrong?”
