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I looked again at the mother’s letter. Hotel Nueva York. That explained it. Not the fanciest place in town, despite its name, but an OK mid-range hotel. Good tourist trade, from what the manager, himself a recent Cornell School of Hotel Administration graduate, had told me when I’d chatted with him at one of our annual travel fairs.Monsieur M owned this hotel, among others.That explained the referral from the ambassador, but not why. Tootsie had said it was urgent. Ambassador or not, it was going to be my name on the visa and I wanted to know what I was getting into.“Tootsie, it’s Michael.”“Hey, Michael, what’s up?”I was pretty sure she knew.“This referral from Monsieur M, María Fernanda, what’s the deal, do you know? What’s the ambassador’s interest?”She was silent.“Tootsie?”I thought I heard a sigh.“Michael, I don’t know, but it matters to him. A lot.”Another silence.“Um, Tootsie?”“Take me to lunch, Michael, OK?”“Sure. Are you free today?”“I’ll meet you in front of the embassy in an. It's funny, if you had been born aboy, we'd have called you Michael, but as you are our dear, sweet littledaughter, you'll always be Sarah. Now enough of your jokes, young lady,go to the lounge and watch TV while we finish doing dinner."Michael, or Sarah as she now knew she was, didn't go into the lounge.She quietly slipped upstairs to her room and sat on her bed.She had a small tear in her eyes. They were not sad tears but happyones. Her wish had come true. It wasn't a cruel joke she was really agirl. She picked up her wonderful red coat and hugged it tightly, shewas so happy.She didn't know how long she sat there for but before she knew it, shewas called down for dinner."This is our best Christmas ever," Mummy said, and everyone cheered.After dinner Sarah quietly went back upstairs to her room and closed thedoor. She went to the bed and sat down, picking up the red coat she hadgot from Santa.She hugged the coat close to her chest and said, "It must have been thecoat that stopped.
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