The rest of the enclosed courtyard had been left open to the sky, and a half-moon shone down, reflecting off the whitewashed walls of Yia Yia’s house and the waist-high walls enclosing the patio. Three large clay pots, each one holding a small lemon tree, lined up along the right wall. Around the base of each tree, green clumps of parsley and mint grew. In the far corner, a pot of red geraniums stood guard by the stone steps that wound to the beach below.

Next to the geraniums, she recognized the telescope her father had given Yia Yia for Christmas last year. An excellent present, she thought as she glanced up at the night sky. So many stars. They were never this bright in the cities back home.

She reached the far wall, leaned her elbows on top and peered down at the beach. The moon glittered on the dark sea and gleamed off the white sand.

“You cannot sleep, child?”

Olivia whirled around. “Yia Yia, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m a very light sleeper these—” Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed. “Are you barefoot?”

Before Olivia could explain that she’d forgotten to pack house shoes, her grandmother scurried back inside, muttering about scorpions. A minute later she reappeared with some bright red booties.

“These are one size fits all, which means they are too big for me.” She tossed them on the floor next to Olivia. “Your brother, Nicolas, gave those to me for Christmas. What was he thinking? A woman my age in red boots?”

Olivia smiled as she draped her blanket over the courtyard wall, then leaned against it to pull on the boot-shaped house shoes. Her brother probably thought the same thing everyone in the family thought. Eleni Sotiris never acted her age, unless it got her something she wanted. Her hair might be gray, but it was still long and thick. Right now, it hung in a long braid over her shoulder. She was still active, her eyes still sharp, and her brain even sharper.