That doesn’t mean I like hearing it, though.
“I remember,” I nod with gritted teeth.
“She was strong,” Cillian continues. “But it takes a different kind of strength to live this life. To be a don’s daughter. To be a don’s wife.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It won’t be,” he acknowledges. “I’m just saying… it may not be the hell you’re imagining.”
He brings up a good point. Is “hell” what I’m imagining?
Before I can figure it out, one of my guys ducks in from the cockpit and informs us that we’re landing soon.
We buckle in. Half an hour later, we touch down.
I feel a small bubble of relief now that we’re back on familiar territory.
The mission went as smoothly as it could have.
But now comes the hard bit.
I walk over to Esme, who’s still sleeping soundly. Her breathing is soft an
