It was closing in on 1am in Philadelphia, the war was still ongoing as mobsters were still hitting the obits. The past two days had been bloody across America, Luis' vision of a unified La Cosa Nostra was starting to slip from sight.. Had it been his old age that let him think that mobsters could ever come together under one unified banner? We are talking about a business that revolves around overthrowing your Godfather, a business that revolves around climbing your way to the top of the ranks.. Perhaps in his old age, Luis became blind to this all.. as he became comfortable with those he called around him his friends...

The car stopped by the curb of the Old City District mortuary, a place Luis had not ever dreamed of visiting in person, he always saw this place and drove by, chuckling to himself that he'd never end up in this place... The rain was at a constant downpour as he stepped out from the back of his cadillac with his bodyguard Joe Delorenzi closely following behind him as Luis approached the black hearse that stopped just some feet behind his....

Luis took a long drag off his cigarette as the gurney was pulled from the back of the hearse with a white silk cloth draped over it, the outlines of a body could be seen distinctly along with small blotches of blood... Luis fought back the tears as he exhaled his cloud of smoke and lead the group inside to the building...

"Godfather Patangeli.. what can i do for you?" the man said as Luis approached the diener of the morgue

Luis paused for a moment before pulling back the cloth, his daughter Valencia lay their pale and lifeless.. Luis just about broke down into tears..

"I need you to make my daughter look like I remember her... I can't stand to see here like... this..." he said with tears running down his cheek

"They took my sweet angel, and turned her into a mess...."

Luis said pulling the cloth back further to show the corpse riddled with bullet holes.. The sight was absolutely unbearable...

"Godfather.. uh.. please.. sit down..." the diener said as he grabbed a chair and sat Luis down in it before he fainted...

"I will do this service for you my old friend, do not trouble yourself anymore..."

Luis began sobbing frantically, he was completely inconsolable at this point. His Empire had crumbled right before his eyes, he had witnessed the death of his beloved daughter.. This world as beautiful as it was at times, could be so cruel and dark..But it was not long before Luis regained his composure and wiped the tears from his eyes, he straightened his tie and attempted to wipe the blood off his white collared shirt beneath his suit coat..

"Forgive me, my daughter was my everything in this life. It is hard to come to terms with this. The funeral is this morning, I expect this job to be done." Luis said sternly, as he turned his sadness into rage and signaled Joe to follow him from the building

"Let's go Joe. There is work to be done..."

The two left the building and climbed into Luis' cadillac and stormed off into the shadows of the night...

It's a trap! Admiral yelled

Aurora folded the note.

"Get it into his hands.  Directly."  She said to the runner who, to his credit, did not show fear.  He would have to pass through a lot of danger to complete his mission.  There were no promises he would ever come back.  It was a noble thing, taking a note of this nature for no better reason than it was the right thing to do and Aurora admired his courage.  

A long time ago, or so it felt, when the greats fell there was respect for them in the streets and in the churches.  These days it seemed rarer.  Disrespect or ignoring the dead seemed to be the order of the day anymore and certainly there were few public acknowledgments of the fallen on the streets aside from those folks who used it to create drama and further the cause of chaos.  At best, protection orders still went out, but that was the limit of it.

Aurora had never been Race Street, she was a child of it, but she hadn't gotten her button there ... now, with the last of those who had accepted a button in Race Street nearly gone, she never would.  Still, her mother had raised her in their ways, and she chose to honor that upbringing... and the dead.

Aurora did not witness the last of her Aunt Tara's loyal men making his trip to Philly.  She'd never know the hellfire he had to get through in order to even get into the same building with Patangeli.  How he was breathing his last ragged breaths when he pulled from his jacket, with trembling bloody hand the letter that his boss Aurora had sent to The Godfather.  She could not know that with this final act complete, he died then and there - loyal to the Byrne family until the bitter end.

Godfather Patangeli,

I'm not certain how well you remember me.  If I'm being honest, I was a child when last I stood in your presence, a young girl still in my mother's massive shadow.  If we're being honest, on the streets I've never stood outside of it, because my mothers (both the one of my birth and the one who raised me) for all their flaws, were forces of nature.  However, I do recall you.

My mother always thought fondly of you and in the years since the fall of Race Street, I've found myself torn about you and your family.  Some part of me wanting to see you as the natural heir to the legacy which I myself came from, or perhaps a villain who might have been a party to the orders that sent men to Hollowood on the day of my mother's demise - stealing her from us right before I and my brother's very eyes.

My husband has always insisted that I was too hard on you and those who were left behind after my mother's fall.  He's a good man like that, always, seeing better angels were others would see conspiracies and demons.  When he told me that you helped us secure the legal rights to my childhood home I felt there must have been some other motive in your kindness, what Godfather didn't use such a situation to control his potential enemies?  I was afraid and, to my shame, I don't believe you've ever even felt the need to ask for anything in return for that kindness, nor have I thanked you.

Now I sit here, another war happening all around us and I am a grown woman.  I have children of my own and I find I have profound empathy for your loss today.  I had always thought losing both Bella and Gavin would be the greatest pain I'd ever have to endure... God-willing it's true... but no, if I should lose a child I think I would simply wish for death.  I can not imagine the depth of your anguish right now and in the wake of everything that has passed these many long years, I find I can not summon up anything but tremendous desire to reach out compassionately to you now in what may be the twilight hours of this conflict.

Luis - I am sincerely sorry for your loss today.  Valencia was my husband's friend.  She was a sharp woman of whom my mother spoke fondly.  I know in her final days she spoke about the legacy she hoped to leave to me and to Valencia one day - never once thinking of a world in which she and you did not still stand shoulder to shoulder.  Always considering Vale and myself to be the natural future leaders of Philly after you and she passed away.  In a perfect world that is, after all, how it should be.  Parents going to meet their maker before their children...

As well as these flowers I've asked my lawyers to make the arrangements to have ground broke on a small park in Valencia's honor in South Side Philly.  I know, it's not my place and you can stop it if you like, but I hope that if you do survive this conflict happening now you'll find time to sit beside the pond and the eternal flame and find some small bit of solace.  

I know what it is to grieve for the dearest people in your life and while no marker can ever replace those we love, there is comfort in knowing we do not grieve alone and so I tell you that I and my husband mourn today.  And South Philly mourns.  Race Street mourns and the dead welcome one of their own home.  You see, unlike what my mother wanted, I never became a Made Man in Philly ... but Valencia did.  She was Race Street ... it's last generation ... and now, she rests with those honored chosen kin, a star in the firmament above ever watching over the thing which each of them had done their best to protect.

Years from now, after we are all gone from this dreadful world and the people of my childhood are forgotten, both the Race Street Pier and the Patangeli Memorial Park will remain.  A small token to remind the world that great men and women once stood where they once stood, men and women whose like the world may never know again.

You have my condolences, Godfather.  May your daughter rest in the eternal peace this world is incapable of granting.

In shared grief & respect,

Aurora Byrne-Mastrosimone

Confucius say

He who go forth in rage go home in body bag.