But I will make him remember when the time comes. He will remember the woman he killed when I cut his wife open in front of him and make him watch as the life slowly seeps out of her.
The image of Ravenna Pisano sprawled on the floor, covered in blood, flashes before my eyes. I’ve always found it comforting to imagine the way I would kill the motherfucker’s wife, like finally fulfilling a life-long promise and shedding the weight of the burden I carry, but now, instead of the peace of mind, something else rises within me.
It’s denial.
The image of Mrs. Pisano’s bloody face blurs in my thoughts and transforms into an unknown woman.
I dig my nails deeper into my palm as I clutch my fist and focus on the pen Rocco is still hitting on the glass, trying to shove Ravenna Pisano’s likenes
