for three years, a grieving mafia boss walks through his mansion every night until dawn, unable to sleep and refusing to enter one locked room from his past. then at three in the morning, his maid’s fearless little daughter follows the sound of his footsteps, loses her one-eared stuffed rabbit, and wanders straight into that forbidden room. instead of running from him, she looks up and says, “you walk all night because you’re sad.” what she does next finally makes the exhausted mafia boss stop walking.

Night fell over the Moretti estate like a thick black velvet blanket. The 24th of October had arrived.

For three years, this date had been a dark vortex that consumed Dominic completely. But tonight, things were different. The east wing was no longer locked away in dark silence.

At ten o’clock, Dominic walked down the quiet hallway of the east wing. He pushed open the door to the blue nursery. The white sheets covering the furniture had been removed by Teresa earlier that afternoon under his instructions. The dust was gone, replaced by the scent of fresh air from an open window and a subtle lingering trace of lavender.

In the corner stood the rocking chair he had built with his own hands four years ago.

Dominic walked over to it and sat down slowly. The wooden joints creaked softly under his weight. He rested his head back against the cushion, closing his eyes.

For the first time in three years, when he thought of Clara, he didn't just see the blood on the restaurant floor or the cold marble of her tombstone. He thought of her smile. He remembered the sound of her laughter filling the garden on summer afternoons. The crushing, suffocating guilt that had consumed his soul for one thousand and ninety-six days began to ease its grip, replaced by a soft, quiet sorrow that he could finally bear.

I’m sorry it took me so long to stop walking, Clara, he thought silently. I missed you so much.

Outside the window, the wind howled through the autumn trees, shaking the bare branches against the glass.

Down at the gatehouse, Frankie sat in front of a bank of security monitors, a cup of strong black coffee in his hand. Suddenly, the screen monitoring the eastern perimeter fence flickered once, twice, and then went black.

Frankie’s eyes narrowed instantly. He stood up, knocking his coffee over onto the desk.

“Section Four camera just went dark,” Frankie snapped into his radio headset. “Team Leader, report.”

Static buzzed over the radio. No answer.

“Team Leader, come in,” Frankie repeated, his heart accelerating.

Static again. Then a soft, choked sound over the line, followed by complete silence.

Frankie’s face went dead pale. He drew his polished silver .45 caliber pistol from his shoulder holster and hit the red emergency alarm on the wall.

“Infiltration! Eastern perimeter!” Frankie bellowed into the house intercom system. “All units, seal the main house! Protect the Don!”

In the guest cottage near the front gate, Teresa woke up with a start as the muffled sirens began to blare in the distance. She pulled Mia tight into her arms, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

“Mama?” Mia asked, rubbing her sleep-filled eyes. “What’s that loud noise?”

“Shh, baby,” Teresa whispered, tears leaking from her eyes as she pulled the blanket over their heads. “It’s okay. Stay down.”

Up in the nursery, Dominic opened his eyes. He didn't panic. The ghost that had haunted him for three years had vanished, replaced once again by the lethal, calculating mind of the Moretti family Don.

He stood up from the rocking chair, his dark eyes cold as ice. He walked to the hidden wall safe behind the nursery bookshelf, punched in the six-digit code, and pulled out two black custom 9mm handguns.