Chapter 8 - THE SISTER DANTE NEVER KNEW
Isabella Gallo was twenty-six.
She lived in Milwaukee.
Worked as a school counselor.
And had spent most of her life believing her parents were dead.
She knew Pietro Rossi.
Not well.
But enough.
He had visited her several times when she was younger.
Always under another name.
Always carrying gifts.
We met in a secure attorney's office.
Isabella arrived wearing a brown coat.
She had dark hair.
Green eyes.
And a face that made Dante stop breathing.
She looked like Lucia Gallo.
Exactly like the photograph.
Dante stood.
Isabella stared.
"You're my brother?"
His voice broke.
"Yes."
For a long moment, neither moved.
Then Isabella stepped forward.
Dante hugged her.
And the most controlled man I'd ever met began crying.
I looked away.
Some moments belonged to families.
Later, Isabella told us what she knew.
Pietro had arranged her placement with a family outside Illinois.
He had warned her guardians never to contact Salvatore.
As she grew older, Isabella began asking questions.
Pietro eventually told her she had a brother.
But he refused to reveal Dante's identity.
"Why?" Dante asked.
Isabella looked down.
"He said your father would use us against each other."
Dante closed his eyes.
Then Isabella looked at me.
"Nora, Pietro told me about you."
I froze.
"What?"
She nodded.
"He said you were the reason he stayed in Chicago."
My throat tightened.
"Why?"
Isabella hesitated.
"Because your parents didn't die in an accident."
I stared.
She continued.
"They were killed."
May you like
The room went silent.
And for the first time, the story of my childhood became something I didn't recognize.
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