“It was not safe to leave her,” Stefanos went on. “Daniel, he saved me more than once, and so it was only right that I save the only surviving member of his family. The Germans had burned her house to the ground, and they have also sworn to kill anyone who defies them by concealing those they seek. There was no one in that village with the courage to help Esther. It was not a choice.”
Michalis picked up his spoon but made no move to begin eating. It was as though he was not there at all. Katerina had once found the skin of a snake on the hillside and was reminded of it now, that impression of a living thing, left behind.
“I am very sorry for the loss you have endured,” she said to Esther.
“You will be safe here,” Leni added. “We will look after you.”
Michalis banged his fist against the table.
“Safe?” he spat, with a mirthless laugh. “Nowhere is safe anymore, you foolish woman.”
“Don’t speak to her like that,” Katerina snapped, ignoring Stefanos’s sigh of displeasure. “You are the fool who went to fight in the first place, who wanted to play at being a man.”
“Kat,” Stefanos hissed. “That is enough.”
Michalis pushed his bowl away, soup spilling onto the tabletop.
“All we have done,” he said slowly, “is provide Esther with a stay of execution. When the Italians and Germans arrive here, they will find her, and they will punish those who keep her.”
“Then they cannot be allowed to find her,” Katerina said loudly as Esther folded further into herself. “There are plenty of places to hide on this island, and nobody knows them better than I do.” She turned to Stefanos. “I did as you asked in your letter,” she said. “I have hidden tools, food, medical supplies, everything I could collect. I will show you. We can go right now.”
“Wait.” He stilled her with his eyes. “First, we eat.”
“I do not want anyone to die because of me,” Esther said. Her words were steady enough, though the tremor in her voice gave her away. Michalis stood abruptly, his chair toppling backward and crashing against the stone floor.
“I need to sleep,” he said, and stalked toward the door. Leni hesitated for a moment, then went to follow him, only for her path to be blocked by Stefanos’s outstretched arm.
“Leave him,” he said. “Your husband has not slept properly for many months now. He is home, and for tonight, at least, that may mean he feels safe enough to rest.”
“Yes.” Leni lowered herself shakily into her seat. For a while, the only sound was the scraping of their spoons against the bowls. Katerina wondered if it was hunger that drove them to eat or merely the desire not to converse. Though there was much to say, there was also a benefit in allowing some time for new information to settle. To give in to the fear would be to lose the fight before it had even begun. She was afraid of the rapidly approaching war and what it would mean for her community. Would neighbors turn on one another? It felt impossible, and yet it was happening all over Greece. It had happened to Esther.
When the bowls were empty, she and Leni collected them, wiping the table and pouring Michalis’s abandoned soup back into the pot on the stove.
Katerina turned to Esther.
“Come next door with me,” she said. “I have clothes that will fit you, a bed in the attic where you will be safe tonight.”
Stefanos nodded his approval, ushering the girl outside, and Katerina turned to Leni.
“Will you be OK,” she asked, “with Michalis? I can stay here if—”
“No, no.” Leni unfastened her apron. “I must look after him myself. Stefanos is right, he will sleep, and tomorrow, he will feel better, more like himself.”
“Of course.” Katerina gripped her sister’s hands, the silence between them saying everything. They had always spoken in this way, conveying through touch alone how they were feeling. In that moment, all Katerina felt was uncertainty. She wanted to offer reassurance, but it would have been a lie. Instead, she simply squeezed harder.
Stefanos was waiting by the boundary wall her grandfatherhad built between his family’s neighboring properties, rolling a cigarette. He had been inside Katerina’s house with Esther, shown the girl how to reach the attic bedroom, given her a small amount of whiskey to sip in the hope that it would ease her into slumber.
“Shall we go somewhere that we can be alone?” he asked.
Her stomach dipped, then lifted, as though the ground had tilted below her feet.
“The ridge,” she murmured.
The hour was late, midnight mere breaths away. Katerina led the way up the hillside, retracing the steps she had taken a thousand times or more, comforted by the tread of his boots, the trail of smoke that followed them. When they reached the ridge, she stopped and looked back across the island, squinting into a darkness that would have been total were it not for the few remaining lights burning in windows. Sleep would be a hardship for many on this night, as it would be every night until the war concluded.
Stefanos lowered himself to the hard earth with the groan of a man who might have been ninety and lay back, his gaze locked in on stars.
“What are you thinking?” Katerina asked, folding down beside him.
