Chapter 17
576words
I returned to the United States alone to visit my mother’s grave. Her resting place was in a quiet cemetery in Springfield.
The grave was covered with fresh flowers. I hired someone to clean it regularly, so it was always neat and spotless.
Kneeling before the headstone, I spoke softly, "Mom, I’m doing very well now. My research has saved many people.
"I’ve found myself again. I’ve found the meaning of my life. You don’t need to worry about me anymore."
A light breeze brushed past, lifting my hair, like my mother gently stroking my head.
After visiting the grave, I drove through downtown Boston. While waiting at a red light at an intersection near Copley Square, I saw a familiar figure.
Dante.
He was sitting in a wheelchair, huddled alone in the shadows at the street corner, a tattered blanket draped over his body.
Boston’s autumn wind swept fallen leaves across the ground. He looked frail and desolate, the once-overbearing aura of Don's dominance completely gone.
He appeared much older. His hair had turned gray, his face etched with hardship. The former godfather’s authority had long since turned to dust.
The once proud heir of the Falcone family had fallen to this state, like a homeless ghost.
I could have pretended not to see him and driven away. However, in the end, I stopped the car. I got out and walked toward him.
Dante lifted his head. The moment he saw me, shock, shame, and overwhelming pain flashed through his clouded eyes.
"Sofia…" His voice was hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time.
I looked at him calmly.
"Are you doing okay?" The words slipped out, surprising even me.
Dante gave a bitter smile. "I’m still alive."
We fell into silence for a long time.
Finally, I took a thick stack of U.S. dollars from my Hermes bag and gently placed it on the worn blanket covering his knees. "This is for you."
Dante stared at the money, his eyes reddening. "Sofia, I don’t need your charity."
"This isn’t charity," I said evenly. "Consider it repayment for your tuition at MIT back then. My mother helped pay for your education. I’m collecting it back on her behalf. From now on, we’re even. We’re settled."
With that, I turned and walked away.
Behind me came Dante’s choked voice.
"Sofia, I’m sorry… I really, really am sorry…"
Regardless, I didn’t turn back.
Some people and some things could only belong to the past. I needed to move forward.
After returning to Switzerland, the CERN research center promoted me to become the director of the cancer research department. I led an outstanding international team, continuing to tackle medical challenges.
In my spare time, I walked along Lake Geneva. I read in cafes. I planted flowers in the garden with Emma.
Life was calm and fulfilling.
Occasionally, I still thought about that period of my life.
About Dante, Olivia, and those painful days.
Nevertheless, it no longer hurt because I knew that those experiences, cruel as they were, had shaped me into a better version of myself. They taught me independence, strength, and how to truly love myself.
Standing on the balcony, looking toward the distant Alps, I spoke softly to the sky, "Mom, I’m doing well. I’ve finally become the person I wanted to be. I’m finally free."
The breeze brushed past gently, like my mother’s reply.
I was finally, truly, free.
