THE LITTLE GIRL ASKED TO SIT WITH A STRANGER—BUT HER MOTHER NEVER EXPECTED THE MAFIA BOSS TO RECOGNIZE HER FACE

had not been to a store.

She turned away so Lily would not see her face.

That night, Clara sat beside her daughter’s bed and watched her breathe.

Her mind dragged her backward.

Seven years ago, she had been twenty-one in a fourth-floor studio in Allston. After Damen walked out, she cried for a week.

On the eighth night, she threw up dinner.

A midnight pharmacy.continue reading …