I woke up at 5:30 AM.
Prison schedule. Even free, my body didn't know how to sleep past 5:30.
I got up quietly, trying not to wake Dante, and went downstairs.
Rosa was already in the kitchen, making coffee.
"Can't sleep either?" she asked.
"Prison schedule. I don't think I know how to sleep late anymore."
"Papa used to say the same thing. After his first stint in jail, years ago. Took him months to readjust to normal sleeping hours."
I sat at the kitchen table, accepted the coffee Rosa handed me.
"This is real, right? I'm really home? This isn't just I'm not dreaming this?"
"You're really home. You're really free."
"What now? What do I do with freedom? With a life that isn't controlled by court dates and RICO charges and Commission business?"
"Whatever you want. That's the point of freedom, Mama. You get to choose."
