Fifteen

Fifteen

“I want you to come with me,” said Donatello.

I couldn’t wrap my mind around the news that he had told me. How had he been my father this whole time? I suppose it explained why I could never seem to escape the underground. I was exactly like Laura. A mafia princess. I didn’t like thinking about that idea.

At least, when I had thought The Fixer was my father, he had been someone from the outside.

“But…the man that I thought was my father…”

“He’s your uncle,” Donatello said, “he stopped working for the mob a long time ago. He went freelance because he didn’t want to be associated with our family. I cleaned up the business a lot. It took time and he was part of that.”

“What about the woman I thought was my mother?” I asked.

Donatello walked over to the kitchen table and sat down without being asked. He gestured for me to sit down next to him. I did as told, the same way I always did for as long as he had been in my life. He was the kind of figure that you simply didn’t say no to.