Page 22 of Sin and Deception

I wrapped my robe tighter around me, seeking comfort and warmth in its soft fabric. My gaze swept over the blurred view outside as the raindrops created a hazy curtain that distorted the vibrant lights of the Strip.

I sighed and wondered, "Do I have to go out in this?"

But I already knew the answer. Penny's insistence on a girls' night out had been relentless, and now I regretted everagreeing to it. All I wanted was to stay in the safety of my tiny home, far away from clubs and Penny's attempts to set me up with her hand-picked hot men.

Yet, here I was, torn between my dread of the evening ahead and the chaos of Fiona's damn book that consumed my thoughts.

Part of me hoped Penny would cancel our plans due to the freak storm raging through the city. But as luck would have it, she seemed determined to go ahead with our outing.

So, on top of everything else, I now had to worry about someone recognizing me in public. What would I do if someone spotted me? What if it put Penny and her family in danger? Just the thought sent shivers down my spine.

I wanted to tell Penny the truth but knew it wasn't an option. Not yet.

A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I gazed at my reflection in the bathroom mirror after my shower. Without my contacts, I resembled the old Nerine Angelos, a strong and confident woman who stood up for herself and those she cherished.

But now, as Rina Leto, I was trying to blend in and remain unnoticed.

I hated this identity. It felt like a betrayal to the strong woman I once was. But to protect those I loved, nothing was too much of a sacrifice.

A sudden wave of guilt struck me as I recalled my sacrifices for their sake.

I sighed as I glanced at the microwave clock, recognizing that I had allowed my thoughts to drift away.

I turned my attention to the cell phone on the counter. I could always call Mama. After all, that's what good Greek girls did on the weekends. Plus, it would give me a valid excuse to skip the night out with Penny.

"Kóri mou!" My mother's voice echoed through the phone on the first ring.

"Yes, this is your daughter. But you have three others, so the odds are in your favor with that greeting," I said in Greek, laughing at her for answering the phone with ‘my daughter.’

The girls and I always spoke to Mama in our family’s native language. It was our way of keeping our cultural traditions alive and making her happy. She loved to say that Greeks had words for everything, which helped us understand a person's feelings and intentions. However, even in English, one word often had multiple meanings—like "light," which could refer to a candle, weight, color, or illumination.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay.” I wasn’t ready to spill my guts.

First, I needed some simple updates about life to ease the tension on my shoulders.

“Is it raining there?" she asked incredulously. “I checked the weather, and it said you might have storms."

"It is," I confirmed. "Strange, right? When it rains, it pours."

"I see you've talked to your sister," she mused.

"Unfortunately," I muttered under my breath before asking, "But how is everyone else doing? How are the twins?"

“Your sisters are doing well, adjusting to college life withease. Although, I do miss having them close by. It worries me about their safety when they're so far away."

"I know," I replied, my heart heavy with concern for my younger siblings, who now lived in different cities.

It had been on my mind lately, but I hadn't found the courage to bring it up with them. They deserved this freedom, and the thought of taking it away filled me with guilt.

The concern in Mama's voice tugged at my heartstrings. As she mentioned Fiona's book, I could hear the fear and worry woven into her words. I couldn't understand how careless Fiona had been; it seemed like Mama felt the same way.

"I have no idea," I replied with a deep sigh, unable to conceal the resignation in my voice. "If only she had shared a copy with one of us before publishing it. But now, it's out in the world, and there's no way to take it back."

“So, are you saying all we can do is pray to St. Sophia and St. Joseph?” Mama asked, her faith in the saints often being her go-to solution for problems.

"No, Mama," I said firmly. "We need to stay vigilant and safe. Keep an eye on the boys, and don't let them out of your sight.”

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