Chapter 8 - I MET THE MORETTIS
I met the Moretti family at fourteen.
Not the criminal version people imagined.
The dinner version.
Too much food.
Too many opinions.
Three aunts arguing over sauce.
Matteo pretending he had not eaten two desserts.
Lorenzo’s cousin Sofia asking me seventeen questions about school.
I was terrified.
Then annoyed.
Then hungry.
Nobody called me princess.
Nobody handed me envelopes of cash.
Lorenzo had forbidden it.
Apparently personal growth had rules.
At dinner, an aunt said:
“She has Lorenzo’s eyes.”
Mom stiffened.
I laughed.
“Everybody says that like I stole them.”
The table went quiet.
Then Matteo laughed so hard he nearly choked.
The room relaxed.
I realized something that night.
Lorenzo’s family had spent generations making blood mean obligation.
I did not have to.
I could know them without belonging to their rules.
I could love some of them.
Avoid others.
Ask questions.
Leave.
That freedom was the only inheritance I wanted from Lorenzo.
May you like
He seemed to understand.
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