No one ever tried to help me. Everyone knew what was happening, what Enzo enjoyed doing to me, but nobody ever intervened. I was his wife and therefore his property, and in the Cosa Nostra, you can do with your property whatever you like. Even my own mamma could only offer her shoulder for me to cry on. After a while, there were no more tears left, so I didn’t even need that. But Lili’s Irishman wishes he could’ve helped. I believe he would’ve, too, had he been around then to see it.
