Regino’s tensed body perches upward on his queen-sized bed. Next to him is tape, permanent markers, scissors and a pile of photos. Most the photos are of himself with HaNeul; others were with his father and his “family”. Mafia crime families never had been a family to him at all. Bastards. That realization only made the 20-year-old imperially pissed. René furiously got to work on those pictures, which meant defacing his traitorous brother and fellow Mafiosos. For every picture Eugenio was in, Regino cuts his face out. All except one he decides to spare. A painful reminder of brief happiness in his youth – in his father’s “loving” arms.
The rest of the disfigured photos are taped together into a large ball. With a swift toss, it scored into the trash bin across the large room. Exhausted, Regino reclines his head on the pillows – shutting away those amaranthine eyes. Savagely eradicating