“I will not spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for your mother’s shadow to catch us.”

“You don’t understand the depth of her reach,” Dominic said, his voice rising slightly.

“She has people in every precinct in this city.”

“She has federal judges on her payroll.”

“Then break them,” I said.

My voice didn’t shake.

I felt a cold, hard certainty settling deep in my chest.

“What did you say?” Dominic asked.

“You heard me,” I said.

“You brought this storm to my door, Dominic.”

“You believed her lies five years ago.”

“You let her drive us apart and steal my baby’s first years from you.”

“I know,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“I know, and I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

“Regret doesn’t protect Lucia,” I said.

“Action does.”

“If you want to be a father to her, you have to earn it.”

“And you don’t earn it by putting us on a train to Vermont.”

Marco stood by the window, his back to us, watching the street below through the blinds.