Mrs. Sofia, my family governess, said out aloud with wide eyes once I stepped inside my two-storey modern apartment. Wanting to surprise her, I didn’t use my apartment keys in order to get inside. I let her open the door for me and as expected, I got the right response — with a warm hug that could suffocate the life out of me.
“Tia Sofia! Oh my God! You look good!” I stated giving her a once-over when I was able to pull away. I never thought that my month-long absence could change the way I see her. There weren’t many wrinkles in her forehead at all, and the white hair that she used to tie into a bun was now replaced with a vibrant burgundy color in a short bob. She still wore the usual granny clothes though, but it was a welcoming sight for me.
“How have you been my child?” was her instant question, disregarding my observation of her.
“I’m doing great,” I beamed her a smile. “I see that you fed Paris well.” I stared at my Persian cat with great pride as it padded all the way into my feet.