That Christmas, the entire family gathered at our house.
Four generations now.
Me and Dante, the oldest generation. Survivors. Builders. Still here despite everything.
Rosa and Tony. The middle generation. Carrying the family forward. Building on what we'd started.
Sofia. The next generation. Dr. Sofia Moretti, professor at Yale, building her own legacy entirely separate from ours.
And the youngest Rosa's four kids, Tony's three, Sofia's future children whoever they might be.
"To family," I toasted. "To everyone at this table. To thirty-four years since I was sold at an auction and somehow, impossibly, built this. Built all of you. Built a life worth living."
"To family," everyone echoed.
Sofia stood up. "I have an announcement. I didn't want to say anything until I was sure, but I'm engaged."
The room erupted.
"To who?" Rosa demanded.
