Page 11 of Milo
Miklos was one of my favorites of my brother’s family. He had this way about him that calmed the inner storm inside of me. The anxiety I felt from knowing my brother could be shot dead or arrested at any time.
Plus I worried about Milo.
“How’s Varya?” Milo asks.
“She’s awake and alert now. That mother fucker is crazy!”
“Do I even want to know what happened?”
Milo and Miklos both shake their heads.
“It is nothing for you to be worried about. We are handling it.”
I do not miss being kept in the dark over family matters. I also didn’t miss the violence these people cause and the violence between them. I like that the people I work with are convicted and restrained so I’m pretty safe at my job. If I ever came back to this life in Greece, I would be a nervous wreck.
What the fuck am I thinking? There’s no way I would come back to Greece. My life is in the States. While I love Greece and will always, this isn’t my home anymore.
When I lived here, I thought my home would be with Milo. I thought for sure we would be the lucky ones who could weather the storm. I guess that is what I get for being young and naïve.
The guys escort me to the elevators and press the twelfth-floor button. The elevator is quick to take us up to the floor.
What I see when I get up there is something I never expected to see again.
A sea of men who belong to The Andino Crime Family waiting outside of Varya’s room. Every single one of them is wearing an expensive Italian suit with expensive ass shoes on their feet. I feel underdressed staring at them.
“Isidora! Welcome back!” Someone yells from the side.
I nod my head and whisper a thanks. I’m not used to this much attention anymore.
Octavious comes to the door looking disheveled. He is normally a well-kept man, but right now he looks like shit.
“Hey, sis!”
I walk over to him and give him a big hug. “Hey! How’s she doing?”
“Doing better. She wants to meet you.”
I wave at all of the men in the lobby and follow behind Octavious to meet the woman that has my brother all in knots.
The room is decorated nicely with light blues and off whites around the room. The bed in the middle looks to be a little bigger than a twin-sized bed.
“You must be Varya,” I chirp to the woman lying in the bed. She’s propped up with pillows and surrounded by flowers around her room. You can tell how much my brother is smitten with her.
“Yes! I’m so happy to meet you.”
“Likewise!”
“Can you stay in here for a minute? I want to check on some things,” Octavious asks me.
I nod and take a seat closest to her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just have some bumps and bruises. It is nothing to be worried about. I want to talk about you! Are you really a criminal psychologist?”
Everyone always asks me that question. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m a woman or something. “Yes, I am.”
“That is fascinating! That is why you’re here, right?”
“Yes. I’m interviewing an inmate to gather information on why child offenders do what they do.”
