Book 2: Homesick

Eleni

A couple days later, I close one of my assigned readings and check the time. Too early for lunch. Too late to start something new. I glance at my phone, sitting on the couch next to me in the living room. I’ve been missing Mama a lot lately. Maybe… Maybe one call won’t hurt.

I’m dialing almost before I finish the thought. My heart hammers. What am I going to tell her if she asks about Christos? Or Dante?

She picks up after a few rings. “Hello? Who is—”

“Mama!” I squeal.

“Zouzouni?” she asks disbelievingly. “I thought—I mean, I feared—”

“I’m all right, Mama,” I say. “Safe and sound.”

Her broken sob crackles through the phone. “Why did you not call sooner? Oh, I was so worried.”

“I’m sorry, Mama.” Tears sting my own eyes, and I wish she was here to hug. “It wasn’t safe.”

“To call? That Dante lies to you,” she says. “It is always safe to call your mama.”

I know that’s not true after my weeks in the boss’