Page 28 of Marcello DeLuca

“Tell him no.” He threw a jab in my direction, testing my defenses.

The familiar dance of sparring grounded me in the present. “He also offered for us to move onto their compound for protection,” I relayed, returning a jab at him.

“We will not be moving there,” he replied firmly, blocking my jab with ease, his movements fluid and controlled. “We stick together, protect each other like we always have done.”

We circled each other, each looking for our next opening.

“What about the case? Has the police department reached out lately?” I asked, desperate for more information that could provide closure.

“No. I called the detective in Destin last week. I’m still waiting on his return call,” my uncle admitted, landing a light hook to my ribs, a reminder to stay focused. “Those people are the worst. You would think with something this big, they would give us more updates and take it more seriously.”

My uncle was right. The police department wasn’t taking our case seriously. Neither was the FBI.

“We might have to take things into our own hands,” I said softly.

“Must I remind you how dangerous the people who did this are?” he asked.

The car explosion going off in my mind answered his question. “No.”

As the rounds continued, we sparred in silence. By the time we finished, our breaths were heavy, our bodies weary but alive with the thrill of combat.

“I hope you’re right about trusting him, Safia,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“I am, and now I’m asking you to trust me on this,” I said, deep down knowing I had to be right.

A Year Later

It was my turn to walk across the stage, diploma in hand, under the bright lights of the auditorium. The applause and cheers from the audience made me smile. The moment felt surreal, like a dream I had been working towards for so long had finally come true.

As I accepted my diploma, I choked back tears. It didn’t escape me that there were three missing faces that would never experience this moment with me.

I searched the crowd and found Marcello with his hands to his mouth like a horn. He stood tall among the sea of faces, screaming my name. He sat next to my uncle and his father: three hulking men who had become my everything—family, friends, and confidants.

After the ceremony, I made my way outside, where Uncle James and Ramiri were waiting. The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over everything, making the moment feel even more serene.

“Congratulations, Safia! Being second in your class is nothing to take lightly,” Uncle James exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug. His voice was filled with pride and emotion, and I could feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. “Your mother would be so proud,” he whispered into my ear.

“Thank you, Uncle,” I said, my voice choked with emotion. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Ramiri stepped forward, his eyes soft and warm. “You’ve come a long way, smart girl. We’re all so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Ramiri,” I replied, smiling through the tears.

Turning, I found Marcello, and without a word, I fell into his arms.

“Congrats, baby. Has anyone told you that you’re amazing today?” he whispered in my ear, holding me close. “I’m so proud of you.”

I pulled back slightly to look at him, my heart swelling with gratitude and love. “Thank you, Marcello. For making me feel special.”

Uncle James cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “How about we celebrate this achievement properly?” he suggested. “I know a place that serves the best seafood in town.”

“Give the name to Tony here, and he will call ahead and make sure we have the best seats in the house,” Ramiri suggested.

We all agreed, and soon we were on our way to a quaint little restaurant by the waterfront. The evening was a blur of laughter, toasts, and delicious food. The joy of the moment was palpable, a perfect blend of celebration and togetherness. I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the people around me, for their love and support.

“To Safia,” Uncle James toasted, his voice full of emotion. “While I may have questioned your actions a time or two over the past year, I must say that I am proud of your bravery and your choices. You chose love, trust, and honor, something more of us would benefit from doing in this world. You have seen rock bottom. Now, it’s my most sincere prayer that you blast through ceilings and even clouds to get everything your heart desires. May your future be as bright and beautiful as you are.”

“Hear, hear,” Ramiri echoed, clinking his glass with everyone else’s.

---