Chapter One: Sophia

Take a deep breath, Sophia. She’s not a monster or anything. It’s Dr. Elena Perri. Still, even as I goad myself into relaxing, I can’t help but feel nervous about entering Dr. Perri’s office. She’s a professor whom I highly respect, and if I can stay in her good books, it’s going to lead me to a bright, bright future. That’s what I’ve been telling myself anyway. I follow my own instructions, inhaling whatever fake confidence I can muster and knocking confidently on her front door.

“Come in! The door’s open,” Dr. Perri announces with moderate enthusiasm as I enter flashing a polite smile.

“Ah, welcome! If it isn’t one of my finest students. Just think, I’ll be coming to see you in your office soon,” she praises warmly with an airy chuckle. Dr. Perri is lean, of average height with thick black glasses, but sharp blue eyes, and she’s known for always wearing her chestnut brown hair slicked back in a low bun. She’s quite striking in an academic, bookish type of way.

Awkwardly silent for a second, I nod, my cheeks growing hot. It’s a big deal receiving such a compliment from Dr. Perri, because secretly I’ve got a long-term plan, and she’s a part of it. I’m hoping to stay on her good side. She rises from behind her oak wood desk, gesturing to the chair near it.

My eyes travel to the bookshelf behind her briefly, where she has wall-to-wall books crammed in, and from what I can see, they’re all related to law, criminology, sociology, psychology, the justice system, Chicago history archives, and not to mention the newspapers fanned across her desk. She’s as obsessed about the law as I am. Even the paper is methodically fanned out in such a way it looks as if it’s meant to be there. All the stationery is in its rightful place, and seeing that Dr. Perri is as neat and organized as me, puts my organized, nerdy heart at ease.

“Thank you so much.” I take a seat, letting my eyes feed on the story she’s highlighted on her copy of the Chicago Tribune . Dr. Perri catches me, handing me the paper with a smile.

“Ah, you’ve spotted it. It’s a very interesting read. It’s all about the resurgence of crime rates in Chicago for this year. Look,” she offers openly as I cross my legs, leaning forward to pore over the paper’s pages.

“Hmm, Torian Anderson’s the journalist. Wasn’t he asked to retract three articles last year for misleading information?” I ask, Dr. Perri’s serious face lighting up with a new sheen in her eyes. She nods in acknowledgment.

“Yep. That’s exactly what I was thinking about the numbers, and to me they look skewed. But thankfully, here’s my comprehensive report on the actual crime percentages according to my intensive research over the last ten years.” There’s a hint of sarcasm when she says it, and I can’t say I blame her. Personally, I don’t think she’s received the accolades or true appreciation she deserves in the field. She winks, handing me a thick, bound paper as my heart surges in my chest.

“ Wow ! I’m in awe. This is the lifeblood of work. This is so amazing.” I drool over the document as Dr. Perri chortles while I flip the papers.

“Yes. I guess it’s not me making it amazing right now. It’s Chicago, and it’s seedy underbelly. That’s what’s so exciting about it all.” Her eyes sparkle as she speaks, and I wonder what secrets she’s discovered and how deep the rotten core of crime really goes in Chicago. “I just put the stuff together,” she downplays with a mild shrug of the shoulders. Reluctantly, I shut the report, sliding it back on her desk.

“No way. I’m such a fan of your work and how you deciphered all the major crime family hierarchies from 1968 to today. It’s such a vast and dangerous playing field, and everyone is in on it. All the connections right from the political arena to the police and military. It’s fascinating, but scary too.”

“Oh yeah. That report was dangerous.” She wipes her brow. “I had a few nasty little death threats after that one. Turns out I broke things down a little too much for their liking. It took me years to get that report in the right hands so it could be used. Eighty-three arrests were made after I handed it over.” Dr. Perri exhales. “Are you sure you want to pursue a criminal law degree, Sophia?”

Flipping my ginger hair over my shoulder, I nod profusely, even more enthralled. “I sure do. Especially after seeing your work. Wow. Eighty-three arrests.”

Dr. Perri chuckles. “I have to say while we’re dishing out the compliments, you’re doing an amazing job in class yourself. You’re maintaining the highest grade-point average across the board, and in my class currently. You’ve got all the right ingredients if you want to become a successful criminal lawyer. Tell me, would you be interested in criminal defense or prosecution?” she quizzes with a challenging lift of her eyebrow.

“Hmm, I don’t even think I can answer that question. I’m just getting started, but if I did have to pick one right now, I would be leaning towards prosecution.” Defending criminals is probably not my jam, but if they’re innocent, maybe I could be persuaded.

“Ah, a lady after my own heart, although sometimes the people who are the most unassuming are the most dangerous,” Dr. Perri warns as her words of wisdom sink in and I nod my head in appreciation.

“Just on that, I saw you’re working on Understanding the Resurgence of Organized Crime. So interesting! It’s spiked over the last four years in the Eastern states of America, but particularly in the last two.” I don’t ask a question, leaving it open for Dr. Perri to interpret.

She nods in agreement, her mouth mirroring the grim state of affairs on Chicago’s streets. “Yep. Unfortunately, it’s continuing to rise, and that’s exactly why I’m working so hard on this, it could prove to be another incredibly valuable resource to the authorities.”

Okay. Ask her now. This is as good a segue as you’re gonna get.

Clearing my throat, I shoot my shot. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to come and see you today. I wanted to ask if you would be interested in hiring me as a research assistant,” I state assertively, trying not to seem like I’m begging.

Dr. Perri pauses for a moment, tilting her head in thinking mode. “You know what? I think you can handle it, and it would be helpful to me as well. Yeah, I could use another pair of hands on deck.”

Stunned, my mouth gapes, but I quickly close it. Holy shit. She said yes. That was so easy.

“Er—really?” I squeak out doubtfully. “You want me on the project with you?”

Dr. Perri procures her notepad, scribbling down a few things. “I’m writing down hours, so I don’t forget. I have too many things on at once. You’ve come at just the right time,” she mumbles, ripping off the piece of paper and sliding it in front of me. “Yes,” she confirms emphatically. “I want you on board. Now that I think of it, I have a ton for you to do. It’s timely that you stopped by. I want you in on everything. It will be so good for your development,” she reinforces, as if convincing me, but she doesn’t need to. I’m her biggest fan if she doesn’t know it already.

“What would it entail?” I inquire, doing my best to keep my tone as professional as possible.

“Hmm. Yes. Good question. Off the top of my head, I can tell that it would likely involve analyzing data on recidivism rates, crime patterns, and social connections among organized crime members. Oh!” she sparks as I jump in reaction. “And I’m going to need to produce a comprehensive report and presentation to share with law enforcement agencies and government officials. Now this is where it could get good for you.” She winks, tapping her pencil on the notepad, her generosity blowing me away.

“How so?”

“Because you’re going to be conducting a few live interviews as well.”

I listen as she reels off the list of tasks, but all the reoccurring loop in my head is saying is— she said yes. Other than that, I’m too overwhelmed to digest the rest.

By the time Dr. Perri wraps up what she wants me to do, I end up leaving her office, practically floating and with clammy hands.

What did I sign up for? Can I really do it? I fast walk from her office, calling Ava, who’s in the same classes as me, and an aspiring lawyer. We’ve held each together like glue over the last two years. Meeting her at orientation was the best thing that ever happened to me.

“Ava. Can you meet me in the cafeteria?”

“Yeah, I can. I’m so bored. I’ve got this stupid assignment I’m stumped on anyway. I could use a break,” she drones, missing my hyper-enthusiasm.

“Oh, you won’t be bored when I tell you the news I have,” I tell her excitedly. “Hurry up! I’m bursting to tell someone,” I gush, heading to the University of Chicago Law’s campus cafeteria.

“Alright, alright. Calm down, you.” She chuckles. “It must be good. I’m coming as soon as I can.”

“Oh, it is. See you there.”

I arrive before Ava, parking myself in the sun, near the back corner. It’s our college hot spot for people watching. Her light brown hair bounces on her shoulders as she walks briskly toward me before sitting down, her cheeks flushed.

“What’s so urgent?”

“You will never believe what just happened!”

“Ah, I will if you calm down and tell me.”

“Okay. Okay. You are now looking at Dr. Perri’s new research assistant for her resurgence on organized crime paper. It’s such a huge deal,” I explain, adding hand movements. “I’m going to be interviewing bad guys and everything.”

“Wow! What? That is game-changing. Dr. Perri…. She is kick-ass as a professor.”

“She sure is. She told me all the stuff I’d be working on, but I forgot half of what she said. It was all a blur because I couldn’t believe she agreed to take me on,” I explain.

“Slow down.” Ava giggles, making me laugh at how caught up I am.

“Phew. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe she’s interested in hiring me as her research assistant.”

Ava frowns slightly, skepticism painted on her face. “You know I’m happy for you, alright. Don’t think I’m not, but it’s kind of uh—why wouldn’t she hire you? It’s unpaid labor, and she’s getting everything out of the deal.”

I shake my head with a smug smile. “No, that’s where you’re wrong, Ava.”

“Hold that thought and let me get us some drinks so you can tell me how wrong I am,” she replies with faint amusement.

“Okay, holding,” I quip, smoothing my hands out over the table. Ava heads off to get drinks, returning with a puzzled expression.

“So?”

“Right. Right. So, it might look like unpaid labor, but there’s a method to my madness.”

“Which is?” Ava asks, sipping her water.

Snickering, I raise a finger. “Dr. Perri’s brother runs a successful law firm in New York, and she’s recommended a few of her favorites in the past who have done incredibly well under his tutelage. If I’m in her good books and I do a good job, then hopefully I get stuck in her head and she recommends me too.”

Ava stares at me in awe, one eyebrow cocked. “You are so effortlessly sly.”

“Hmm.” I tilt my head, swallowing down water. “Calculating might be a better word for it.”

“Pfft. Semantics. Sly. But hey, I’m not against it. High five.” Ava holds up her palm and I lightly slap it, riding a euphoric high.

“If I want to be a successful lawyer, I’ve got to set up my future early. It’s how I’m going to beat out any competition. Especially these pesky, little arrogant, second-year twerps with Daddy’s hedge-fund accounts.”

Ava laughs, covering her mouth. “That deserves another high five because you are so right.” I high-five her again, in a great mood. “You know what this means, right?” Ava wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“No, what does it mean?”

“It means that we need to go out to party in celebration.” Granted, I’m not the biggest party animal. I’d rather sit at home and study more, and one of our last big nights led to a friend becoming pregnant and married. Funny that—but Fiona seems happy enough, even if it was a weird dare for us to participate in.

Sighing, I mull over it for half a second, thinking I probably should celebrate this milestone. It’s not as if the opportunity’s going to come around again anytime soon. “You know what, I think it’s a good idea too.” I slowly smile, getting used to the idea. “Where to?”

“Pfft. You’re asking that? Where all respectable hot girls go!”

“Destiny Bar,” we both cry out in unison, catching a few curious glances.

Of course I can go. It won’t hurt to let loose for a night. I deserve it. Go me.