We get up the next morning, and we both know that time’s up.

He doesn’t have to say anything. We kiss and he holds me for a few minutes before Ryan wakes up. I take a shower while Connor takes him downstairs to get him some breakfast.

When I’m done showering, I finish packing. It’s strange, putting my life into a couple of bags. I still have a bunch of stuff back at my apartment, but I guess that’s all gone now. I can’t go back there and get it, anyway, there’s just no time. We have to hit the road today and put as many miles behind us as physically possible.

We both knew we’d get to this point. Sooner or later the Gallo bastards would try and break in and steal Ryan away if we wouldn’t give him up. Mario so much as said he would in that letter. I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.

I head downstairs and join Connor and Ryan in the kitchen. They’re smiling and laughing, almost like our world isn’t falling apart around us. Connor kisses me and puts a plate of pancakes down in front of me, and I’m surprisingly hungry. Maybe it was from all the excitement last night, I don’t know, but I tuck into the meal like it’s the last thing I’ll ever eat.

“Hungry mommy,” Ryan says, laughing, and I stop to stare at him.

Connor stops too. Ryan doesn’t miss a beat, he just goes back to playing with his food, but I look over at Connor and I can feel tears in my eyes.

Connor’s grin pushes me over the edge. Tears spill down my cheeks and he walks over, putting his arm around me. Ryan notices and frowns a little bit.

“Why cry?” he says.

“Mommy’s just happy,” Connor says. “You made her really, really happy.”

“Oh, okay.” He goes back to playing.

I can’t help but laugh. I don’t think I’ve never been this happy before in my entire life. Connor hugs me again, kisses my hair, and goes back to doing the dishes. I sit there, just smiling like a dumb fool, tears still on my cheeks but feeling so good.

I don’t know how I can go from fearing for my life just a little while ago, to suddenly being so happy I could cry. It’s such a simple moment and yet it feels so incredibly good. I’ve never wanted someone to call me “mommy” before, but hearing it from Ryan is like cool water on a hot summer day. I feel energized and alive again, like nothing could possibly go wrong.

The doorbell rings, pulling me out of my joyous moment. I look up at Connor with an expression of fear, but his face is clouded. He turns off the water, dries his hands, and hesitates until the doorbell rings again.

“Wait here,” he says. He walks past me and I watch as he pauses in the living room to pull open a drawer in one of the decorative tables. He pulls out a gun and I feel my whole body go still.

I get up and walk around the table, getting behind Ryan. He looks up at me with a smile, totally oblivious, but I’m ready to grab him and run out the back door. I’m not letting what happened last night to happen again, not if I have anything to say about it. I look around the kitchen for a weapon and I spot the knife block nearby. If it comes down to it, I’ll grab a knife and run with Ryan in my arms.

Connor glances back at me as the doorbell rings for a third time. He hides the gun in his right hand behind the door and slowly pulls it in toward him.

I can’t see who’s there, but he doesn’t move. He’s holding the gun behind the door, out of sight of the person standing on the stoop. His body looks tense, but he’s not panicking. It can’t be Enzo or Piero out there, or else he’d have the gun up and ready to go, but he’s also not slamming the door shut.

After a second, he lowers the gun and slips it into the back of his pants. He half turns and steps back, letting someone come into the living room.

I’m shocked to see my aunt Philomena standing there, a nervous smile on her face.

Connor shuts the door behind her. “Aunt Philo,” I say, coming around Ryan and walking toward her.

“Hi Leah.” Her smile’s a bit more genuine now. “I’m sorry that I’m here under these circumstances.”

Philomena looks just like my mom, except a little older. She wears more makeup, and her hair’s dark and teased out like an 80s rocker chick. Her clothes are all black and slightly revealing for someone her age. She’s clearly had work done, which doesn’t surprise me. I haven’t seen her in years.

“What are you doing here?” I ask her.

“I just came to talk.” She looks over my shoulder and into the kitchen. “Is that him? Is that little Ryan?”

“No,” I say, stepping in her view. “You’re not talking to him.”

“I’ll go take Ryan to his room,” Connor says softly, “let you two talk.”

“Sure, sure,” Philomena says, nodding. “Of course.”

Connor goes into the kitchen, whispers in Ryan’s ear, and gets the boy up. They walk past me and Philomena on the way upstairs, and Philo gives Ryan a big smile. Ryan smiles back but Connor doesn’t pause, just takes him right upstairs.

“Mind if we sit?” Philo asks me. “My feet are killing me. Took the subway here.”

I shrug. “Go ahead.”

She sits on one of the chairs in the corner of the room. I sit on another one across from her. I stare at my aunt, wondering what the fuck she’s doing here. She clutches her purse against her chest and smiles nervously like she’s about to explode or some shit.

I hate her so much in this moment that it’s really hard to explain. She’s my fucking family, my own aunt, and yet she’s part of the group that’s trying to steal my child, or whatever the hell Ryan is to me. She’s trying to tear my life apart. Hell, she already did tear it apart. It’s already broken beyond repair. I have to run from the city I love, run from my job and my life, all because of her and her fucking family.

It’s taking all of my strength not to jump out of my chair and strangle the bitch to death.

“I come in peace,” she says to me finally. “I just wanted to talk.”

“Like your sons wanted to talk last night?” I snap at her, losing my temper a little bit.

She flinches at that, and I can tell she knows what happened. “They shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, they shouldn’t have. None of this should have happened.”

She nods a little, not meeting my gaze. “You’re right. If it makes you feel any better, Enzo’s face is pretty fucked up. His jaw’s broken and he’s missing some teeth. And I think Piero has a concussion, or at least that’s what the doctor said.”

She’s babbling, clearly nervous. “I’m just mad they’re not dead,” I say to her.

She stops talking and nods. She takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Listen, you have to understand. They’re my family.”

“I’m not coming after your family,” I say to her. “Why are you here, Philomena?”

“Mario doesn’t know I came out here,” she says. “He’d never have let me come, you know. He’s very controlling. He loves me and provides everything, but he’s controlling and has one hell of a temper.”

“Why are you here?” I repeat.

She stops talking and stares at the ground. She takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Mario… he has a strange idea of how family works.” She stops talking then and I’m not sure if she’s going to continue.

She looks like she’s ten years older than the last time I saw her, although I think it’s only been half that long. I think I last saw her at my mom’s great aunt’s funeral, and only from a distance. She looked old then, but she looks aged now. Aged beyond her years.

I shouldn’t feel sorry for her though. She made this choice. She wanted to marry that psycho and get involved with mafia guys. She knew who he was when they met, and that’s the life she chose.

Her sons tried to steal mine away. Fury rolls through me all over again, but at least they paid the price for it, all thanks to Connor. I don’t know what I’d be doing without him. If he hadn’t shown up… well, Ryan would probably be gone now.

“He thinks his blood needs to be around him,” she says finally. “He thinks raising the boy in the family is the best thing for him, you know? He thinks he’s doing the right thing, trying to take Ryan away. I told him not to, but he doesn’t listen to me, never has.”

“They’re trying to steal a child like he’s a car or something,” I say to her. “How can you stand being around people like that?”

“They’re not bad people,” she says to me, eyes flashing. “You don’t know them, what they’ve been through. You can’t judge me and my family.’

“They’re trying to steal my son away from me,” I say softly.

“He’s not your son,” she says, but quickly stops herself. I’m about to stand up and kick her out, but she raises her hands. “Wait, please, I’m sorry. I lost my temper.”

I sink back into my chair. “You have thirty seconds before I call the police.”

She nods a little. “I just came to say I’m sorry. I know what my husband’s doing is wrong. If you leave the city, I think you’ll be okay.’

I stare at her for a second. “Are you telling me to run?”

“Yes,” she says, nodding. “And I brought you some money, to help you out.”

I gape as she pulls an envelope from her purse. She passes it over and I stare at a ton of twenties, all shoved in there. I hold it in my hands for a second, but I shake my head.

“I can’t take this,” I say. “It’s blood money. I can’t take it.”

“Please, take it,” she says. “It’s my money. I work part time as a waitress.”

I pause. “Seriously?”

“Sure,” she says. “It’s actually kind of fun. Anyway, that’s my tip money, so Mario doesn’t know about it.”

I stare at the money again. It’s a lot of money, and if it’s really her tips, this is probably, well, it’s probably all of it.

“I still don’t feel good taking this.” I hold the envelope out again but she stands.

“I won’t take it back. Burn it if you want to, I don’t care. I just came… I just came to say sorry. And to give you that.”

She looks at me with a frown before turning to the door and quickly walking over. I stand and follow her, not sure what to say. She pauses with her hand on the knob and looks back at me.

“I really am sorry, honey,” she says. “Please, take the boy and go, leave the city. I don’t think Mario will bother you guys.”

“What if we don’t go?” I ask her.

She shrugs. “I think he’ll kill you both.”

I watch as she leaves without another word, shutting the door behind her. I stand in the living room alone, anger and rage and sadness all ringing through me.

All of this is happening because I was born into a fucked up, dysfunctional, broken fucking family. Now they’re going to kill me if I stay in this city. I didn’t plan on staying anyway, but it still stings to hear it out of my own aunt’s mouth.

“We should get going,” Connor says from the top of the stairs.

I look up at him, and it’s amazing how one second can be the best moment of your life, and the next can be the worst.

He comes down the steps. I meet him halfway, and he hugs me, holding me tight, right there on the staircase. I don’t cry, because I’m done crying for these people. I’m done with all of this.

“I’m ready,” I say softly to him. “I’m so fucking ready.”

‘Good.” He tips my chin up to him. “I love you, Leah. I’m going to take care of you. I promise.”

“I love you, too.” It feels so good to finally say it out loud.

It’s been true for a while now. I’ve loved him ever since he came into my life and changed it completely. I’ve loved him ever since he saved me and Ryan, kept us away from the Gallos, kept us safe. I’ve learned so much from this man and his son, and now I want to be a part of their family for real.

“You’ll like it in California,” he says after a short silence. “We’ll start a new life there. We’ll have a real family.”

“Yeah,” I say softly. “Yeah, we will.”

He hugs me tight again before we kiss softly and head upstairs. We help Ryan pack his things, and an hour later, we’re leaving Philadelphia. As we head down the turnpike, driving fast from the place where I was born, I don’t feel any regrets. I don’t feel anything at all but happiness and love every time I look over at Connor or back at Ryan.

This is the freest I’ve ever been. I’m floating on a cloud, with the man I love and the boy I want to raise as my own. I think about Harper briefly, and I’m happy she left Ryan with me. I’m happy she blew into my life and changed it so much.

Because it led me to Connor and to this. I reach over and take his hand. I squeeze it. He glances over at me and grins.

I grin back at him and I finally feel like I’m home.