Her voice grew smaller with every word.
“Furniture. Clothes. They even took my baby brother’s crib.”
Rocco’s jaw tightened.
He had heard stories like this before—loan sharks, extortionists, street criminals—but when the girl lifted her sleeve and revealed bruises along her thin arm, something colder than anger ran through him.
“They told mommy not to tell anyone,” she added softly.
Then she looked up at him again.
“But I recognized one of them.”
Rocco leaned down, his voice calm but dangerous.
“Tell me who.”
A Name That Should Have Protected Them
The girl’s small hands trembled as she spoke.
Continue on the next page:
