"But surely you have some kind of record to prove the debt."
"Signorina Sullivan," I interrupt gently. "Are you suggesting that I am lying about the debt?"
The silence on the other end tells me she's realized how dangerous that accusation could be. Good thing she’s learning fast.
"No, of course not," she says quickly. "I need to understand the scope of what we're dealing with here."
"Fifty thousand euros. Plus, interest."
"Interest?" Her voice climbs an octave. "You didn't mention interest!"
"The loan has been outstanding for eight months. Accrued interest is standard."
I can practically hear her calculating numbers she can't afford. "What's the interest rate?"
"Twenty percent."
"Twenty percent? That's usury! That's illegal! What are you? A loan shark?"
"Perhaps by American banking standards. However, this was not a bank loan."
More silence while she processes this. When she speaks again, her voice is smaller, more careful.
"What's the total amount?"
"Fifty-eight thousand euros. And growing daily."
A sound that might be crying or might be laughter comes through the phone. "I don't have fifty-eight thousand euros. I told you, I used everything I had to get here."
"I understand your position is difficult."
"Difficult? No, not difficult. This is impossible! You're asking me to pay more money than I've ever had in my entire life for a house that doesn’t even have running water!"
Now comes the interesting part. How she handles impossible situations will tell me everything I need to know about Madison Sullivan.
"Perhaps," I say carefully, "we could discuss a payment plan."
The relief in her voice is almost painful to hear. "Yes! That's exactly what I was thinking. I can make monthly payments. What would be reasonable?"
"What can you afford?"
"Well, I need to find remote work first. And figure out the exchange rate. But I could probably manage... maybe two hundred euros a month?"
Two hundred euros. At that rate, it would take her twenty-four years to pay off the debt, assuming she never missed a payment and the interest didn't compound.
"Two hundred euros monthly would be insufficient."
"Okay, what about three hundred? I could cut expenses, live really simply..."
"Signorina Sullivan." I let a note of patience enter my voice, like I'm explaining basic mathematics to a child. "At three hundred euros monthly, you would be paying for a very long time. With interest continuing to accrue, the debt might never be paid."
"How long?"
I do the calculation for her. "Approximately sixteen years. Assuming no missed payments and fixed interest."
The sound she makes definitely qualifies as a whimper. "There has to be another way," she says finally. "Some other arrangement we can make."
"Such as?"
