Page 145 of True Blue

And now, as I sit with my family, built from the ruins of my life, I feel at peace.

But the entire time I’ve been here in Santorini, I've had no special drawings with my breakfast.

In the morning, when my food was brought to my room, I looked under my plate and deflated when I didn’t see anything. No drawing. No notes.

And I kind of hate how disappointed I am about it. Like I was waiting for something I told myself I didn’t need anymore. I didn’t realize how much I had been looking forward to them, and then I got a little annoyed at myself for being disappointed.

I don't begrudge myself too much, however. Petra has kept me busy, showing me around this beautiful place—taking me to the beach, watching the sunsets from the roof of her and Demetri’s house, visiting the hot springs, hiking, and eating at her parents’ house or at the usual places she loves to go.

This has been the most fun I’ve had in so long, and I’m sad to see it end, but so grateful I experienced it. Petra turns to me, seeing my gaze on her, and smiles. She reaches out and lays a hand over mine on the table and squeezes, and I glance around the table to see each of Petra’s family members laughing and smiling together.

“I’d like to raise a toast,” Demetri then says, standing up on his chair once again and raising his glass. I reach forward to grab my glass of ouzo and raise. “To our newest family member, Indie.”

My heart warms, as do my cheeks, as everyone awws and turns to me. Demetri grins, and Petra kisses my cheek.

“You will always have a home here in Santorini with the Katsoros,” Demetri says.

“And the Makris,” Petra’s dad rumbles, waving his hand. “Friends. Family. It’s all the same to us. You are ours, whenever you need.”

Tears sting my eyes, and then Petra chirps from next to me.

“To Indie! Γειά μας!”

The entire family repeats her loudly and boisterously. “Γειά μας!”

Smiling, I toss back the slightly spicy liquor—so much better than my college days of Fireball. The families erupt in cheers, and someone turns on the music.

Then Petra’s grandmother ambles by with her cane, but stops before me and gently cups my face with her weathered hands.

“Ftou, ftou, ftou,” she says, making a sound with her mouth, like she’s spitting on my face. Then she smiles brightly, pats my cheek, and moves on.

I sit there, a little surprised and confused, as Petra giggles next to me.

“What just happened?”

“Γιαγιά was warding off the mati for you,” Petra says, smiling and wiggling her fingers. “The evil eye. It’ll bring you good luck.”

“I hope so,” I say, returning her smile, before Petra’s father pours more ouzo into my glass.

One more won’t hurt.

“The air feels sooooo good,” I slur, definitely drunk now. I shouldn’t have done that last shot of ouzo, but I was determined to keep up with the family. Big mistake.

Petra walks with her arm linked through mine, mostly to steady each other as we’re both giggling lushes right now. Demetri walks behind us like some guard dog, singing softly in Greek as we walk back toward my hotel. It’s late, the moon guiding our path as people wander the streets back to their destinations.

A hot shower and my comfortable bed are practically calling my name.

“What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Afternoon,” I answer Petra, breathing in deeply and trying to soak in as much of Santorini as I can. “I’d like to get to the airport around noon.”

“We’ll do breakfast beforehand,” Petra says, before she pouts and wraps both arms around my arm. “I’m going to miss you, my friend.”

“You’ll just have to visit then,” I say, leaning my head against hers on my shoulder. “I’ll show you around Cape May.”

“Deal!” Petra squeals before glancing over her shoulder at her husband. “Demetri, can we go visit Indie in New Jersey?”

“I’d take you to the moon if you asked, αγάπη μου,” Demetri chuckles. “New Jersey should be doable⁠—”