Chapter Eighty-Three

I can't bring myself to walk inside just yet.

The last time I was here, I was dragged out by Enzo himself.

He's standing by the entrance and is watching me as if he knows what I'm thinking. I'm too deflated to be angry, all I can do is look around. My mother's garden is destroyed. Weeds and birds got to it. There are still some flowers I recognize here and there. My hands are itching to fix them, to restore this garden, but I know that that won't ever happen. It won't be the same without her. She spent years and so much effort on this small piece of land, but that has all gone to waste.

I settle my eyes on the front door again. Enzo has the keys with him. I don't ask him how he has them. It doesn't matter at this point. He probably got them from one of his men, after they finished the job.

"Aren't you going to come in?" he asks me.

I shake my head. "Why did you bring me here?"

"This is your home," he says. "I thought you'd want to spend the night here instead of some motel."

He