Chapter 1
The ferry from Naxos was smaller than Lucy expected. Most of the other passengers were Greek families carrying bags of groceries and folding chairs. She sat near the back with her backpack between her knees, watching the water turn from deep blue to a clearer turquoise as the boat pushed farther into the Small Cyclades.
Ano Koufonisi appeared slowly, a low, dry island with white houses stacked against the hillside and almost no hotels visible from the water. Exactly what she had been looking for.
A man was waiting at the small dock beside a battered water taxi. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of faded swim shorts that sat low on his hips. His olive skin was deeply tanned, coming from a job on the water, and his body looked carved from stone. He had broad shoulders, a hard lean torso, the clear lines of muscle across his chest and stomach. He looked older, maybe forty, but maybe that was just life on the water. Nothing about him looked soft or settled. He had the body of a Greek god who actually worked for a living.
When he saw her struggling slightly with the backpack, he stepped forward without asking and took it from her in one easy motion.
"You're the American," he said. His English was accented but clear. "The one staying at the Kalogerou house>'
Lucy blinked, trying not to stare. "How did you ---?"
"Small island." He gave a half-shrug, almost smiling. "Everyone knows when someone new is coming. I'm Nikos. I'll take you."
The ride to the other side of the island was short. The villa sat alone on a low rise above a quiet cover, whitewashed and simple, with blue shutters and a wide terrace that looked straight out to the sea. There was no road leading all the way to it---just a dirt path. Nikos carried her bag up without comment, still shirtless, the sun catching the sweat along his back and the strong line of his shoulders. He set the bag inside the cool, shadowed hallway and showered her where the water tank was and how the old gas stove worked.
He paused in the doorway, looking at her for a moment.
"You're going to be okay here alone?" he asked. "It's far from the village. No neighbors close. If you need anything ... the boat, food ... whatever you can find me at the port most days."
Lucy nodded, a little surprised by the concern. "I'll be fine. Thank you."
He studied her face a second longer, then nodded once and started back down the path toward his boat.
Lucy stood on the terrace after he left, the late afternoon light turning the seas the color of hammered silver. The island was so quiet she could hear goats somewhere in the hills. She had a whole month. No plans. No one expecting her.
But that first evening, as the wind moved through the olive trees around the villa, she already felt something settle in her chest---the quiet certainty that she had found the right place.
