A/N: THANKS TO GODDESS LAUGHS FOR HELPING ME OUT WITH THIS ONE! HOPEFULLY HER POSITIVE INFLUENCE WILL SHOW! ALSO, I UPDATED CHAPTER 2...SHOULD BE MORE COHESIVE NOW.

CHAPTER 3

Connor was up before 6 am. After spending the night tossing and turning, he gave up on sleep and decided it was time for some coffee. Murphy was managing to get some sleep and all the noise coming from his side of the room couldn't make it very easy.

While he waited for the coffee, he thought about the previous night. Luciana hadn't said much once they got home, but he hadn't needed her to. She looked as though she had been defeated by the world. He couldn't stand to see anyone in such anguish and he immediately took control of the situation.

After getting her some towels and a t-shirt to sleep in, he ensconced her in the room that had, until recently, been Da's. She accepted his help without much comment, which reinforced what he and Murphy had discussed last night. She must be in shock. When he woke that morning, he listened at her door but there wasn't any noise from inside. He sincerely hoped she was getting some much needed rest. Conner poured himself a cup of coffee and lit a cigarette just as Murphy shuffled into the kitchen.

"Hope I didn't wake ye." Connor said, eyeing his brother carefully. If he looked as worn out as Murph it was definitely going to be a long day.

"Naw, I didn't sleep well either." Murphy mumbled, getting himself a cup of coffee. By the time he sat down, Connor had a cigarette lit for him. Murphy took a long drag and exhaled with a sigh. "So, what are we gonna do with her?"

"Dunno. Depends on what her situation is, I suppose. I don't think she has any money on her. She sort of fell apart when I asked her where we could take her last night. Hopefully today she'll be able to give us a better idea of what's going on and why we never heard of her before yesterday."

"I think I'll be able to do that, if one of you will get me a cup of that coffee" said a voice from the kitchen door. Connor looked up to see Luciana looking like she had slept about as well as they had. Her puffy bloodshot eyes told him all he needed to know about what she had done most of the night. Connor motioned for her to sit down and Murphy got up to get her coffee.

After they were all seated, Connor looked into her eyes and said simply "Tell us."

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"Connor, calm down!" Murphy said, laying a hand on his brothers' shoulder. Connor shrugged him off and continued pacing the room.

"Listen, if ye don't settle down, yer gonna wake Luciana. Who knows how long it's been since the poor girl had a good nights rest." Connor knew his brother was right and slumped onto his bed.

In a frustrated voice, he said "I just can't believe all she's been through, and then she gets here only to find out her last hope is dead."

"I know." Murphy said quietly sitting down next to his brother. "I know."

Connor sighed heavily. He knew his brother was as upset about the situation as he was. Murphy, he realized, was holding in all his tension, being strong for me. The thought sobered him. Losing control wouldn't help matters at all. He looked over at his twin and nodded. Both men reached into their shirts and pulled out the rosaries they wore. Kneeling on the cold bare floor, they prayed.

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Luciana lay on her bed, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling. Mulling over the previous days events, she was shocked at herself. Many of the things she told the MacManus brothers, she had never told anyone. Something about those two put her at ease. Maybe it was the way they spoke of David. Clearly they had cared for him. When Connor had told her of David's death, she had seen a shadow of emotion cross over his face. Whatever the cause of her comfort, it was welcome. She felt freed from some of the huge burden she had been carrying around. Just having it out there eased her pain a bit. Some of the pain she knew she would carry to her grave, but at least there was a way ease the burden.

The look of compassion on Connor's face when he had asked her to tell her story had touched her. Her story came out slowly, tentatively at first. Then it build into a flood of words and emotions that at times threatened to overwhelm her. When it became too much there was a soft word from Murphy or a squeeze of her hand from Connor. They asked few questions as she talked, but the listened carefully to every word.

She told them about David leaving when she was just 6, headed to New York but ending up in Boston. She told how his visits became less and less frequent, and then about the huge fight he had with their mother. The fight that lead to her mother telling him never to come back.

She told them about rushing home from school to check the mail before her mother got home from work. Later, when the alcohol and pills took control, she would rush home to get the mail before her mother woke up. Each trip to the mailbox was filled with the hope that maybe today anther letter would come from her beloved brother.

She told them about the money David had sent; fifty dollars here, twenty-five there. The money she used to buy food and to turn the heat back on in the winter when all of the welfare money had been spent on cheap vodka and percocets.

She told them about meeting Vic when she was just 18. She had just graduated high school and trying to make ends meet working at a small diner, not far from the apartment she still shared with her mother. He had flirted with her when she brought his eggs and he left her a large tip. He came back every morning for a week. She was immediately smitten. He was all she had never had in her life; funny, smart, stable, caring. She didn't realize then that he was also controlling, jealous, unpredictable and violent.

She told them about moving in with Vic after her mother threw a vodka bottle at her in a drunken rage. She had taken the few things she owed and never looked back. Vic had welcomed her with open arms.

She told them how after moving in Vic encouraged her to quit her job. He had plenty of money and would take care of her. Then he started to make disparaging remarks about her few friends, eventually forbidding her to see them at all. At the time, she felt he was so right. Why should she visit with her friends when she hadn't cleaned the house or made his dinner yet? She knew he loved her and he would always take care of her.

She told them about the first time he hit her. She had been in the basement finishing up some ironing and forgotten about the lasagna in the oven. He walked in to a kitchen full of smoke and her crying over the sink, trying to scour out the pan. He had stopped at the bar after work for a few drinks and she could smell the whiskey on his breath when he asked her what he had been thinking. She didn't have any answer he liked or would listen to, and before she knew what had happened she was on the floor watching the blood drip from her broken nose onto her white shirt.

She told them how it had slowly escalated from that incident; black eye, cut lip, cracked rib. No one noticed because she had become isolated from anyone who would have cared. Her only contact was David and she never told him what was going on. She knew her brother. He would have done something crazy, and, in the end, she still loved Vic.

She told them about the joy that had filled her when she had learned she was pregnant. Surely, Vic would be as excited as she was. He had always talked about having a son to follow in his footsteps, Vic, Jr. He didn't lay a hand on her after that, and things were perfect.

She told them about the doctor's appointment. Vic was right there by her side when the doctor told them they would be welcoming a baby girl in a few months. She had felt Vic stiffen beside her. He hadn't said anything on the way home from the doctor. Dropping her off at the house, he drove off leaving her bewildered on the porch.

She told them about waiting for him to come home that night. Paralyzed with fear and indecision, she didn't leave even though her instincts were screaming for her to run. He came home in a drunken fury that, despite the years of abuse, took her by surprise. She had tried to run then but it was too late. He was ranting, accusing her of having an affair. There was no way he had produced a girl. The derision in his voice when he said girl made her blood run cold. He said he was going to teach her a lesson, and he did. He beat the baby right out of her.

She told them about scraping together the money a few dollars at a time. Taking a few dollars from Vic's wallet when he came home drunk or keeping the change she found in his pockets when doing laundry. When she had enough saved up, she packed up some clothes, the letters David had sent and the only picture taken of her while she was pregnant and left.

She told them about the greyhound bus ride from Youngstown to Boston and the search for David's apartment. She told them how nervous she had been walking, soaking wet, into an Irish bar called McGinty's.

In the end, she told them everything.