Chapter 10
We went back to the restaurant.
Sarah and Leo were in the kitchen, helping the cook make meatballs.
Leo looked up when we came in. His face lit up.
"Did you find him?" he asked.
Tony knelt down in front of him.
"We found him, little man," he said. "He's in police custody now. He can't hurt anyone anymore."
Leo threw his arms around Tony's neck.
"Thank you," he said.
Tony hugged him back.
I looked at Sarah. She could tell something was wrong.
"Can we talk?" I asked her.
She nodded.
We went to the back office.
I told her everything.
About the ledgers.
About our father.
About what Marco had said.
About Detective Carter's confession.
Sarah listened quietly, her face showing no emotion.
When I was finished, she sat back in her chair.
"So what does this mean?" she asked.
"It means... it means everything we thought we knew was wrong," I said. "My father wasn't the hero we thought he was. And Marco... he's still a bad man. He's still done terrible things. But maybe he's not the monster we made him out to be."
Sarah was quiet for a moment.
"Does this change anything?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Does it change how you feel about Leo?" she said. "About me? Does it change the fact that Marco is still a man who abandoned his family? Who put us in danger? Who hurt people?"
I thought about it.
"No," I said. "No, it doesn't."
"Then it doesn't change anything for me either," Sarah said. "Marco is still the man who hurt me. Who hurt my son. Who needs to pay for what he's done. And your father... he was a man who made mistakes. Who did bad things. But he was also your father. And he loved you. That's what matters."
She reached across the table and covered my hand with hers.
"People are complicated," she said. "No one is all good or all bad. Not even Marco. Not even your father. Not even us."
Her words hit me like a wave.
She was right.
People were complicated.
Our father had done bad things. But he had also been a good dad. He had loved us. He had taken care of us. He had taught us right from wrong—even if he didn't always follow his own lessons.
Marco had done terrible things. But he was also a human being. A man who had made his own choices, who had his own regrets.
And we... we were the Donnelly brothers. We looked like thugs. We had a reputation for being tough. But we also helped people. We protected the weak. We stood up for what was right.
No one was all good.
No one was all bad.
We were all just people.
Trying to do our best.
Failing.
And trying again.
That night, I went up to the roof of the restaurant.
I needed to be alone.
I looked out at the city lights.
I thought about our father.
I thought about Marco.
I thought about Sarah and Leo.
I thought about my brothers.
And I realized something.
The truth didn't have to destroy us.
It could set us free.
Free from the anger that had consumed us for ten years.
Free from the need for vengeance.
Free to live our lives.
Free to be the kind of men our father had wanted us to be—even if he hadn't always been that man himself.
I heard footsteps behind me.
Tony.
He stood beside me, looking out at the city.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
"Everything," I said. "Nothing."
Tony nodded.
"It's a lot to take in," he said.
"Yeah."
We stood in silence for a moment.
"Detective Carter called," Tony said. "Marco is being charged with murder. For our father. And for three other killings. He's going to trial. And with the evidence they have... he'll probably spend the rest of his life in prison."
I nodded.
"Good," I said.
And I meant it.
Marco might not have been the one-dimensional monster we'd imagined. But he was still a killer. He still deserved to be punished.
Justice would be done.
Not the vengeance we had wanted.
But real justice.
And that was enough.
Tony put his hand on my shoulder.
"We're going to be okay," he said.
I looked at my brother.
At the man who had raised us after our father died.
At the man who had always been our rock.
May you like
"Yeah," I said. "We are."
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