Chapter 47Falcone had done his best at enjoying a late dinner with his wife and son. His performance was far from award-winning, but believed he'd convinced the family they had held his interest and attention both during and after the meal.
It was the least he could do, the very least. He knew Mary had gone to a lot of trouble making chicken parmesan, and even flattening the chicken breasts the way he liked them. Her homemade sauce with just a hint of sweetness, and small chunks of tomato, beat even his own mother's sauce. Her day had been full of visiting his sister, and his parents, and cooking him dinner.
To top it off, she didn't lay any guilt on him when he'd almost immediately after dinner announced he was going to bed. He never slept, but his mind, and his body appreciated the ide
