Page 77 of Angelo

"Come and find me," she urged Elyse, "if the life you have chosen ever gets to be too... overwhelming. I can give you a fresh start."

Then, Isabella walked out of Elyse's life as abruptly as she had entered it. Isabella's heels clicked behind her, fading away in softer and softerclack-clack-clacks, along the wooden floors of the church until she disappeared completely out the door.

Elyse stared after Isabella in a daze. Why had Isabella chosen this very moment to pop back into her life? Why hadn't she come sooner? Why wait until her father's funeral to show her face?

Her knees were slowly giving out, but she willed herself not to crumple to the floor. Somehow, through sheer force of will, Elyse remained standing as her mind descended into a state of disorder and confusion. The rest of the day passed by in a godawful blur.

That night, in the solitude of her hotel room, Alessandro's words floated across her mind.

Make sure to check your documents again once you land in New York.

Elyse had been so busy and jet-lagged since her arrival in New York that she’d forgotten all about her husband's reminder. Now, after Isabella's offer to help her escape the mafia, Alessandro's words seemed to carry a hidden meaning. His strange behavior right before her departure could be seen in a whole new light as well.

Hurriedly, Elyse scrambled out of bed and headed straight for her carry-on. The very one that Alessandro had been zipping up right before she left Palermo. Elyse removed all of her belongings—dresses, bras, and panties went flying through the air—until she came across a neatly packaged manila portfolio. Elyse had never laid eyes on this portfolio before. She certainly didn't pack it in her suitcase. Green eyes glimmered as realization set in.

Alessandro must have slipped it inside when she wasn't looking.

With shaking hands, Elyse removed it from her suitcase. She tore open the seal. Inside the portfolio, Elyse found a UK passport, a one-way plane ticket from New York City to London, a license to practice medicine in the UK, access information to a hefty-sized bank account, along with a thick stack of official documents one might need to escape an old identity and step into a new one.

Each of the documents and accounts was made out to a Ms. Eve Davies, butthey all carried Elyse's photograph.

All of sudden, everything that confused her became clear, everything that seemed out of sorts clicked into place, and Elyse felt as though her heart might burst from the enormity of what Alessandro had done for her.

I will love you forever, Elyse.

Helplessness crippled Elyse as she stared down at the life-changing documents in her hands.

No matter what you choose to do.

Bittersweet emotions swarmed through her, one at a time, frame by frame, like a subconscious film shot in slow motion.

Disbelief.

Understanding.

Gratitude.

With them, memories of their past conversations soared to the present.

I am sorry that I am a Vitale. I am sorry that you are a Graviano. I am sorry that fate has fucked us over. But, I promise you, I will find a way to free you from this world.

Each recollection came together like pieces of a collage confirming, with absolute surety, Alessandro's love for her. Her heart pounded alongside every shattering revelation.

After all that has happened to us, don’t you want to escape this hell?

It thudded with poignancy.

Do you truly wish to stay?

Anguish.

You could have died on Sunday, though. I would have never forgiven myself for it.

Then, finally, a sense of absolution.

She forgave his secrets and lies. The papers in her hands represented the physical, tangible manifestation of Alessandro's love. Like some kind of dark magic, they could make Mrs. Vitale disappear forever and re-emerge from the nothingness as Dr. Eve Davies.

Dr. Eve Davies would be free from the mafia.

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