Dangerous Melodies

Epilogue

15 years ago

Angelica

'One hundred forty six...

Eighty-nine...

Forty-four...

Twenty-seven...' – I counted hurriedly, trying to get to „one" as soon as possible.

'That's not right Angie, you can't even count!' – Leo, my brother, shouted from behind me. We were playing hide and seek and I was counting, facing the wall, my eyes closed. I never tried to look. For some reason, I've always preferred playing fair. Unlike my brother...

'Shut up, Leo, I'm almost there! Go hide!' – I shouted back and continued counting. I did my best, really. I was eight years old and sometimes numbers still gave me a headache. Leo was four and already better at this game than I was.

'Five...

Four...

Three...

Two...

One...'

I turned around and started searching the house for my brother. We always had a hard time finding each other, since we were kind of professionals when it came to playing this game. Our father taught us both how to find the perfect hiding place. He was a police officer, a Detective, actually, even though my brother and I never really knew what that title meant. All we knew was that he caught the bad guys. And he knew the perfect hiding places. Sometimes he played with us and he always won. But no matter how much we enjoyed playing this game together, I always saw the concern and worry in his eyes. I didn't understand it back then...

'Cosa fate, bambini?' (What are you doing, kids?) – my father, Antonio Dalla Rosa, walked into the room, he had just come home from work. He was born in the Southern part of Italy, his father was a police officer as well, chasing gangs, drug dealers and delinquents on the streets of Palermo. He grew up wanting to do the same, so he went to university to become a detective to investigate the crimes committed by the so called Italian mafia. Honestly, most people think it's just a legend. The big, powerful families ruling the streets of Southern Italy. They don't believe it until their lives are ruined forever by this legend. My father knew the truth and he wanted to stop them. When he finished university he got an irrefutable offer from New York. The New York Police Department needed an expert in the Italian mafia cases. They wanted someone who grew up there, who could help solve the increasing number of crimes committed by the Italians. Some Italian families were trying to extend their power overseas and the best place for that was New York.

Needless to say, he accepted the offer and started a life here, in New York, where he met my mother. Two years later I was born and then my brother, Leonardo. Most of the time we talked in English, but our father insisted on teaching us Italian, because he wanted us to know his heritage and mother-language. I loved speaking in Italian, probably more than English, for me it was a whole different world to explore.

'Sto cercando Leo. Vuoi aiutarmi?' (I'm looking for Leo. Do you want to help?) – I asked looking up at him. He seemed to be hesitating for a second, but then he smiled down at me and took my hand.

'Certo, tesoro.' (Of course, darling.) – he said and we started searching the house for Leo. A few minutes later we found him inside my mother's huge wardrobe, curled up among the clothes.

'Siete bravi, sono orgoglioso di voi.' (Well done, I'm proud of you, kids.) – he hugged both of us. - 'Volete ascoltare un po' di musica?' (Do you want to listen to some music?) – he asked with a smile on his face. Dad had a huge collection of classical music in his study. He often took us there to listen to something together. He loved Beethoven's Für Elise and Moonlight Sonata, Mozart's Lacrimosa from Requiem, but his absolute favourite was Albinoni's Adagio. He said the melody reminded him of his home in Italy, because his father used to listen to it all the time. We had an old piano in the living room and sometimes Dad played for us. The beautiful melodies filled the room, Leo and I couldn't stop staring and listening, we were mesmerized. I wanted to learn playing myself, but first I had to learn how to read sheet music.