As my father took a sip of his coffee, he mentioned, "Before his tragic death, Rick sent me a message, saying that you're willing to accept your new role."
I remained silent as he drummed his fingers on the desk.
Suddenly, he boomed into hearty belly laughter.
"I couldn't believe that at first; you never wanted to have anything to do with the mafia."
This made me think.
"Maybe I had a reason that I forgot about.", I said.
He stopped laughing and shifted gears. "While we're at it, how's your memory?"
"I still don't remember much from before the lightning strike," I admitted.
My father nodded thoughtfully. "I want to send you to Chicago, the den of the Knox. They have a great hospital there; they'll be able to help you out."
"How would we pass through all the other mafia's territories?"
