Respect

Vincenzo's POV

I carried the tray carefully up the stairs, mindful of the bowls balanced a bit too close to the edge.

It held two bowls, one with Chicken broth for Rocco, warm, lightly seasoned, exactly the way my mother used to make it for me. And a smaller one for Viviana, though I doubted she’d touch it. From what I remembered, she didn't really like eating soups and broths unless she was extr