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LOID AND ANYA WERE NOW AT THE TAILORS. Loid watched Anya as she looked at the dresses that were presented on the mannequins before one of the ladies who worked there approached her.
"Now, young lady, come with me so I can take your measurements."
The lady put a comforting hand on Anya's back before she held her hand and started to take her to the back.
"I'm being sold to traffickers!" Anya called out while looking at her father who stood near the counter.
"You won't be if you behave." Loid played along.
'Honestly, where is she picking up that kind of language?' He thought to himself. He went towards the other side of the counter before leaning onto it. He leans his head back a little and darts his eyes inside.
'The seamstress is married.' He watched as she used the sewing machine to make some clothes, more closely looking at her left hand, where a wedding ring, lay. 'The proprietress was on the list,' He drifted his eyes towards the woman who was taking Anya's measurements. 'but she's been arrested for political activism before, so she's too risky.' Anya raised her hands a little too high, making her fall back, fortunately, the proprietress caught Anya before she fell with a chuckle. 'Finding the right woman might take longer than-'
"Excuse me!" A soft yet cunning voice spoke behind him, making Loid surprised. One of the ladies approached the woman.
"Oh, I haven't seen you in a while, Natasha!" The woman greeted her with a smile as she came towards her across the counter.
"Hello," Natasha greeted with a soft smile. "I was hoping to get my friend's dress fixed." Natasha set her bag on the counter before taking Yor's dress out.
"Could I get it fixed as soon as possible?" Natasha spoke with a soft voice as she handed her the torn dress.
"Of course, dear. Anything for a regular! How has Yor been?"
"She's been doing just fine-"
Natasha continued to talk to her with the seamstress with a small smile. Loid discreetly glanced behind him as they continued to talk.
'She managed to slip behind me so easily. Who is she?'
He closed his eyes and thought to himself. He looked through the files he memorised in his head as he thought to himself.
'Natasha... Natasha... There we go. Natasha Romanoff. 27 years of age. No marriage records.-'
