Epilogue
One month later
A thin veil of snow covers the ground, turning the cemetery into a quiet, frozen canvas. The autumn wind carries the scent of rain, and my breath exits in white puffs of steam as I kneel in front of my father’s grave.
I lay the bouquet of roses against the headstone. The deep crimson stands bright against the pale gray.
My throat tightens. “I did it, Dad,” I whisper. Tears blur my vision but I blink them away. “They’re gone. Every last one of them. You can rest now.”
The name Vincenzo Capuano stares back at me.
I run my hand along the etched lettering.
The marble is cold beneath my fingers.
Next to my father lies Nonno.
Two headstones standing side by side.
My guardians in a legacy soaked with love and blood.
Behind me, I hear the soft murmur of voices.
Looking back, I see my family, battered and broken, but still standing.
Nonna’s small frame is wrapped in a shawl, her hand resting on Mom’s arm for balance. Gigi and Matteo stand together, their heads bowed in prayer. Lucia’s hands are stuffed in her pockets as she shivers against the icy breeze.
A hand rests on my shoulder.
Looking up, I see Dominic, staring down at me like I’m the only thing in the cemetery that matters.
Taking his hand, I get up and brush the damp grass and frost from my pants.
We join the group and stand there for a long, silent moment, paying our respects.
The wind whistles around us.
Dominic wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me close.
“Come on,” he whispers.
We walk away from the graves, leaving the others behind. Fallen leaves mixed with light snow crunch beneath our boots.
“You know,” Dominic begins. “We’ve survived more poison, gunshots, kidnappings, and betrayal together than any other couple I know. That’s got to mean something.”
I smile. “It means it was meant to be.”
Before Dominic can reply a loud caw sounds overhead.
Looking up I see a raven sitting among the barren branches above our heads. The plump bird ruffles its glossy feathers before flying off.
We both look at each other.
“Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore,’” I laugh.
He returns my grin. “No, Cipi, it means you’re stuck with me forever.” His hand slides to the back of my neck pulling me closer, his lips inches from mine.
“Checkmate,” he whispers.
Then he kisses me.
You don’t bury queens. You crown them.