Two years have passed since Dante died on that Brooklyn Bridge.
It had been two years of peace, normalcy, and rebuilding our lives.
Sometimes I forgot to be afraid, and sometimes I believed we were actually safe.
Rose was now three and a half. She's bright, curious, and talkative with endless questions.
She has no memory of the danger or the nightmares and fear. She was living as a happy, normal child.
Hector was now seven and was smart beyond his years. He's always protective of Rose, serious sometimes, but happy.
Tony and I successfully ran Marvin Ventures ethically and profitably.
We live upstate in New York now, away from Manhattan's chaos. It gave us our privacy, space, and safety.
We had a real house, a real yard, and real neighbors who didn't know our history.
There were no threats, attacks, or violence.
Just a normal, beautiful, and terrifying life.
During bedtime in Hector's room, while I was tucking him in, he asked something quite disturbing.
"Mama Katherine?"
