Chapter 24 Gabriella
The moment I step off the plane in Prague, my mood lifts.
Not because I'm happy to be here. God knows this city holds too many complicated memories for simple happiness.
But because for the first time since I put on Sofia's wedding dress, I'm somewhere that's mine.
Somewhere I belong, even if I can't let anyone know it.
"First time in Prague?" the customs officer asks in heavily accented English, glancing between my passport and my face.
"Yes," I lie smoothly, while every instinct screams at me to respond in the basic Czech I learned during my time here. "Very excited to see the city."
"Beautiful city. You will love."
I smile and nod like the eager tourist I'm supposed to be, but inside I'm calculating. The hostel where I told Sofia to go if she got scared is maybe twenty minutes from here by tram. Where Sofia might be hiding, if she needed a safe place to hold up.
"Everything all right?" Luca asks, taking my arm as we navigate through the terminal. "You look a little pale. Are you feeling okay?"
"Just tired from the flight."
"Take time to rest before we hit the town. We’ll have plenty of time. You don’t need to see everything the first day."
Paolo appears beside us with our luggage and that ever-present professional alertness. "Car's waiting, boss. Twenty minutes to the hotel."
I sit quietly on the drive and let Luca point out the sights like a personal tour guide, nodding and making appropriate sounds of amazement when we pass the castle, the river, the medieval buildings that turn Prague into a fairy tale.
"It's incredible," I breathe, which isn't a lie. Prague is incredible. It's just not incredible in the way Sofia Romano will be experiencing it.
The luxury hotel is elegant and historically significant. As we pull up to the entrance, I spot a small street that leads toward the hostel area, maybe fifteen minutes on foot.
My old life is so close.
But it might as well be on another planet with Paolo and his team watching my every move.
"Welcome to Prague," the hotel manager greets us. "We are honored to have you stay with us."
The suite is beautiful but all I can think about is how to get out of here without an escort.
"The concierge has prepared some suggestions for activities," Luca says, settling into one of the antique chairs with a folder of tourist information. "Museums, galleries, walking tours of the old city."
"That sounds wonderful. Though..." I move to the window, trying to look thoughtful rather than desperate. "I'd also love to do some shopping. Maybe explore some of the less touristy areas, see how local people really live."
"Of course. Paolo can arrange a shopping trip."
"Perfect,” I reply.
There’s no point in trying to talk him into allowing me to shop alone, so I don’t even try.
After lunch, I tell Luca I want to rest for a few hours to rest. He has business calls to make anyway, so he settles at the hotel's business center while I retreat to our suite.
Once I'm alone, I wait. I listen to his voice in the hallway as he speaks with Paolo about evening plans. When everything goes quiet, I move quickly.
From the hidden compartment in my largest suitcase, I pull out the clothes I've been hiding, worn jeans, scuffed boots, the jacket that's been with me forever. A dark cap and sunglasses complete my outfit. When I look in the mirror, I see myself again.
The hotel has a service entrance I spotted when we arrived. Staff members coming and going, the kind of busy traffic where one more person won't be noticed.
I slip out through the service corridor. This is what I'm good at. Disappearing, and becoming invisible when I need to be.
Twenty minutes later, I'm walking briskly through the hostel district.
The neighborhood looks exactly the same as it did weeks ago before the wedding. The narrow streets lined with budget accommodations, cafes, and the kind of bars where backpackers gather to drink cheap beer and swap travel stories.
I find the hostel I told Sofia about without any trouble. It's a converted building that probably hasn't been updated since the 1990s, with a hand-painted sign advertising beds for twenty euros a night.
The woman at the front desk looks up when I enter, and something flickers in her expression. Recognition, or confusion maybe.
"Excuse me," I say, trying to sound like a worried tourist. "I'm looking for my sister. She might be staying here. Italian girl, looks a lot like me?"
The woman's eyes narrow as she studies my face more carefully. "You are... different sister?"
"Yes. I'm worried about her."
"Ah." She nods slowly. "I maybe see her. Maybe no see her."
"Is she still here? This is important."
The woman shrugs. "She pay extra to have no records, no questions."
Of course…this is about money.
I pull a wad of cash out of my purse and hand it to her. "When will she be back?"
The woman glances around, then leans closer. "Tonight, late. She work at art galleries. Places that buy and sell, no too many questions. I help her find job."
Art galleries. Sofia was looking for work here, trying to blend in using the skills she actually has. Smart girl.
"Do you remember which galleries?"
"I write down for her." The woman disappears into a back office and returns with a piece of paper. "These places, they are... how you say... not so careful about papers. Good for people who need work but cannot do official jobs."
I memorize the addresses quickly in case I can’t come back here. Three galleries in different parts of the city, all in areas where I could conceivably go shopping without raising too much suspicion.
"Thank you," I tell her. “If you see her, tell her sister is here. In Prague. Okay?"
"Yes, I do that."
I step outside and hurry down the street. I only make it a block when I hear a familiar voice.
"My God! Is that really you?"
I turn around, and my heart stops. Oh no!
Carlos is standing on the sidewalk, looking exactly the same as he did weeks ago except for one crucial difference.
He's wearing a tank top that shows off his arms, and there, covering his left shoulder in intricate black ink, is the massive dragon tattoo I tried so hard to talk him out of.
The night I received the call from Sofia that changed both our lives.
"Carlos," I breathe.
"My love! Where the hell have you been?" He crosses to me in three quick strides and pulls me into a bear hug that lifts me off my feet. "You disappeared that night and never came back. We were worried sick! Didn’t know if you were alive or dead."
"I had to leave Prague suddenly. Family emergency."
"Family emergency my ass. You vanished like a ghost." He sets me down and holds me at arm's length, studying my face. "And what the fuck happened to your hair? You cut it? You look good though."
"It's complicated," I say.
"Everything's complicated with you. But seriously, where did you go? One night you're there telling me not to get a dragon tattoo," he pulls up his shirt sleeve to show off the intricate artwork, "and the next morning you're gone. Hans was convinced you'd been kidnapped."
"You got the tattoo," I say, staring at the elaborate dragon wrapped around his shoulder.
"Of course I got the tattoo. You told me not to, which meant I absolutely had to." He grins. "Turns out you were right about the artist though. She was wasted. It turned out amazing anyway."
"Carlos, I’m sorry.” I say, fondly squeezing his arm. “I can’t stay and talk. I can't really explain right now, but---"
"You can't explain? You disappeared in the middle of the night without a word. I've been wondering for weeks if you were dead or kidnapped. And now you show up looking like you've been living the good life and you can't explain?"
"I'm sorry. I really am. I wanted to say goodbye, but there wasn't time."
“What kind of family emergency requires you to disappear without a trace? Why didn’t you text me back? I’ve been calling and calling."
“I lost my phone and your number.” Which is true. My sister has my phone.
Before I can answer, I spot movement across the street. A man in a dark jacket. It could be anyone or it could be one of the men on Luca’s security team I haven’t met yet.
Shit.
I can’t take a chance and need to get back to the hotel.
"I have to go," I tell Carlos urgently.
"Like hell you do. We're going to sit down, have a couple of beers and you're going to tell me what's really going on. Starting with why you look like you're running from something."
"I'm sorry," I tell Carlos, backing down the sidewalk away from him. "I’ll be back and then we’ll catch up."
"Wait!"
I'm already moving fast, slipping through the alley between two buildings.
Sofia is here.
That’s all that matters. She's alive and looking for work in the art world, trying to build a new life for herself.
And I just led Luca's people directly to the place where she might return.
How stupid could I be?