Dom remains silent, and I know it’s because he’s listening intently to the barrage of noise surrounding me, searching for clues. After a few seconds, he speaks up. “What’s our number?” he asks softly. “Seven,” I reply. The number of years I’ve been away from what’s most important to me. The number of years I’ve been living dual lives. Years of hunger and humility, years of metamorphosis that changed me from a revenge-seeking orphan to a common thief, to barterer, brother, mentor, student, teacher and now . . . ? “What did you bet?” “Our future.”
