So even in his death, I was never given closure. Most people get a funeral, a viewing, pretty music, lovely speeches. I was taken to a hole in the ground and allowed to mourn on my hands and knees in the dirt while Frank held an umbrella over my head. And when I was done crying – I cried some more. – Joyce Alfero “HE’S REALLY DEAD.” I said for the hundredth time while sitting in the limo beside Frank. He merely nodded his head and said nothing, allowing me to lean against him, allowing me to use his body as comfort as I’d done for the past week. “And the Nicolasi family is in Sicily, never to return.” Frank nodded, “We made sure of it.” “Good.” I sniffled, “That’s good, right?”“The Abandonatos helped us rid the states of their filth. It is very good. You’re safe Joyce.”“I miss him.” I sobbed against his chest. “So much.”“I know.” Frank swore and pulled me into his lap, “But know this,” his thumb tilted my chin up. “I’ll protect you.
