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Chapter Twenty

Sophia made a phone call the next morning to set up an appointment with the mayor and was pleasantly surprised when she was given a time later that day. The mayor had an unexpected cancellation that she could fill if she wished.

Good. The sooner she met up with one of her favorites of Yaya’s friends the better. Old Hamilton Alexopoulos had been around since she could remember, and the wonderful old man had always treated her like a princess.

Sophia trusted him more than many other people she knew and felt sure Stasia’s problems were going to be solved very soon. This wasn’t only about saving her new friend. Others confined where she’d been imprisoned needed help as well.

After the girls had their breakfast, and Stasia offered to clean up, Sophia went to her grandmother’s closet to find a younger-looking, less sophisticated-styled outfit for Stasia. The moment she stepped inside, her Yaya’s favorite scent surrounded her. Memories flooded and tears followed.

Angry at her loss of composure, Sophia swallowed and searched the racks for something a young girl would look appropriate wearing. As she flung the hangers past her, one particular outfit appeared, and she burrowed her face in the silky red material.

The dress her grandmother wore to the last ball they attended wrinkled in her clutching hands. Loss overcame her so suddenly that she sank to the floor, weeping.

Her Yaya had looked fragile as a flower wearing the gown, desperately trying to hide her frailty. The garment hadn’t worked. All that night, Sophia had stayed close, fearing something was wrong, yet not knowing what it was.

Fucking cancer. Took the best and left the rest to mourn.

Stasia called out from the hallway, “Sophia, can I help you with anything?”

Straightening, forcing herself to her feet, Sophia smoothed the now crinkled material and rehung the garment on the hanger. Then she reached for a very plain blue A-line outfit she’d never seen before. “Come try this one, Stasia. It’s short enough and should fit you quite well.”

As soon as Stasia saw the dress, her face lit up, and she reached for the hanger. “I had dress very… ahh, samular… I mean, similar, but they took away. All they want for us to wear are ugly, bad clothes to make us look like whores.”

Sophia stepped close to Stasia and held her arms firmly so she couldn’t turn away. “Listen to me! You are not a whore. That title belongs to a person who’s purposely made the choice to live that life… you didn’t. There’s a huge difference. You’re a victim, Stasia. You hear me?”

Stasia’s lip trembled, and she nodded. Then she shyly lifted her hand to point at the tears still visible on Sophia’s face. “I’m sorry about your babushka. The old people are precious, I know. Mine lived with us years before she died. We missed her a long time.”

“Thank you, Stasia. My grandmother was special. So you know, she made this closet into a safe retreat in case of any crisis. The door has a combination lock from both sides. You must remember the four numbers one, one, four, seven should you ever need a safe place in this house.”

“One, one, four, seven. I remember.”

“Good. Yaya had been alone when an intruder broke in a few years ago. She never wanted to feel at the mercy of anyone again. She hid in here but knew if he looked, he could get at her. Now no one can. She had a phone installed in that slot there – see where her hats are, just below. It’s always left there in case of any emergency.”

A smile broke out over the young girl’s features, the first real smile Sophia had seen so far. “Your baba was smart lady.”

“Very smart. You’d have liked her, and she’d have loved you. Young people were her favorite persons to hang with. One day, I’ll tell you more about her but now we need to get ready. We don’t want to keep the old mayor waiting. Besides, the fact is, I can’t wait to see him again. He’s a pet. You’ll like him.”

***

“What do you mean Hamilton Alexopoulos isn’t here? The man hasn’t missed a day in years.”

“Look, he’s gone, like in dead.”

“He passed away?” Sophia stood in front of the new secretary, a tall, skinny dude with attitude, and her shock kept her arguing. “But I talked to him on the phone just a few months ago.” He’d called to commiserate with her about Tanya’s death yet again. And how much he missed his darling friend. Oh, they knew she was sick, had been for years, but no one expected her to develop pneumonia and be gone within hours.

Sophia had been pulled off her assignment so she could fly back for the funeral. Her and her father had suffered through the formalities, and when the lawyers read the will and Sophia had been named her beneficiary, no one had been surprised.

During those terrible days of grief, Hamilton and her father had been her lifesavers, not letting her stay alone, being there for her so she could get through the saddest time since her mother died. And Barney had made all the arrangements to save her from having to deal with obstacles and fine print that she was in no condition to handle.

How did she not know the old man was gone? She’d be discussing this with Barney first chance. Right now, she needed to keep her cool so she could meet with the new mayor.

The haughty employee waited for her to settle down while Stasia stood by her side still wearing her borrowed sunglasses, glancing around the grand room. Prominent photographs displayed on the wall of earlier mayors stood out and suddenly Stasia froze. She pointed to the one hanging next to an older man and asked, “Is he mayor now?”

Barely giving her any attention, the snotty jerk answered, “Yes. That’s Mayor Paolo Diakos. He can see you now. This way, if you please.”

Abruptly, Stasia became sickly looking and gripped her stomach. “I’m not good, Sophia. Please, I must use ladies’ room.”

“Miss, the mayor is a busy man. He cannot wait for you. If you don’t go in now, it’ll be weeks before I can make you a new appointment.”

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