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however, had become visibly nervous: even though we were inside, it was plain that
people around the house were being rowdy, perhaps in an effort to impress or intimidate
me. I could hear gunshots, smashing bottles, loud music accompanied by the laughter of
men, and even the distinctive sounds of the occasional fistfight. With every passing hour
my thoughts turned from the interview I was hoping to get to the safety of everyone in
the house.
Atjust past one o’clock in the morning Vasilo,s phone rang. Christos was nearby
and called to say he would be arriving with a few friends. Vasilo explained to him that I
was there, that I was a friend, and that she needed his help to get me safely out of the
compound. Twenty minutes later I heard a car pull up followed by shouting and the
shuffle of shoes in the dirt. A handsome young man strolled into the house, embraced
Vasilo and signaled for me to get up. Christos paused at the front door betraying what
seemed like a flash of uncertainty, but then pushed it open and strode outside with a
cocksure swagger that, at that moment, made me feel brave by extension. I followed him
out of the front door with Vasilo by my side and we proceeded around the back of the
house towards a cinderblock wall that marks the end of the compound and the beginning
of a large office tower’s parking lot. As we walked, Christos told me I was foolish for
waiting so late to go home and that I could have called him to arrange an interview at a
better time. He also told me that I had put Vasilo and his younger brothers, who I had
just realized were following us, in danger. I apologized nervously and suggested, with
insincere bravado, that I could make it the rest of the way on my own. Christos stopped
abruptly, as if he had been waiting for the offer, programmed his number into my phone,
winked, and walked back to the house with his family. I stood alone in utter darkness