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She thought it was a flu She holed up in her bedrooive it to the rest of us By the time my father realized how ill she was, it was too late She died ofsick only two days

My father felt horribly guilty He still does

In our world, you know that you ht lose a family member in a violent way The Gallos have lost more than our share But you don’t expect the silent thief, so and otherwise healthy

Papa was devastated He loved my mother intensely

He saw her perform in the Riviera Theater He sent flowers and perfureed to have dinner with him He elve years older than her and already infamous

He wooed her for two reed to marry him

I don’t knohat she thought about his job, or his family I know she adored her children, at least She always talked about her three handsome boys and me, her last little surprise

Dante has her focus Nero has her talent Sebastian has her kindness I don’t knohat I have—her eyes, I suppose

I can play the piano a little Not like her, though

I see Papa’s broad, suited shoulders hunched over the keys He touches er almost too thick to stay within the bounds of the key Papa has a massive head that sits al streaks of white His eyebrows are as thick as my thumb They’re still black, and so is his ray

“Co around

It’s impossible to sneak up on him And not just in our house, where the stairs creak

I sit down next to him on the bench He slides over to make room for me

“Play your ,” he says

I spreadto forget it I couldn’t tell you how it starts, or even hum it properly But the body remembers much more than the brain