Obviously, Olympia had to go. But Max stalled for time. “Will you give us notice? A week? Two?”

“You didn’t tell me ghosts from the old times would dance in the moonlight in the ballroom.”

Kellen took her hands away from her eyes and mouthed, Wow, to Max.

Olympia’s eyes drifted, unfocused. “Do you hear the music at night? Do you find the vinyl records spinning out the old songs and wonder what could have set the needle on them for a last time?”

Max rose. “I have not heard that.”

“Underneath I hear the growl of men’s voices, soldiers who took the island and then left it—and died. They all came back here, you know. They’re alive here.” Olympia was rambling. “All those poor boys. Dead and yet tied here. Not gone. Not yet.”

Kellen signaled Max with wide eyes and a shake of her head.

Max walked around the desk and took Olympia’s arm. “Let me prep the helicopter for flight and tell the Di Lucas in Bella Terra I’ll be coming in to their airport. Are you packed?”

Olympia snapped back into her usual brisk mode. “I am packed. Your lunch has been made and is in the refrigerator—sandwiches, a vegetable plate with appropriate dips and a refrigerator cake. I made bread. It’s in the freezer. The ham is sliced, separated, vacuum-sealed and frozen in servings appropriate for the three of you. Each container of soup is marked and holds four servings—Rae is eating like a stevedore. I have not left you to go hungry!”

Kellen stepped forward. “Olympia, that’s wonderful. Thank you so much for your service, and I hope when you reach the mainland, you’ll no longer be haunted by the ghosts of the past.”

“Puleaze. I’m not haunted, I just…” Olympia lifted her chin. “I don’t like living in an old house where unhappiness walks the halls.” She said it as if that made total sense.

Kellen nodded as if she understood.

Max said, “Then we can go.”

“Right now,” Olympia answered.

When Max and Olympia were out of the house, Rae sneaked around from the corner where she’d been hiding and grabbed Kellen in a tight hug. “Mommy, are we going to starve to death?”

Kellen chuckled. “No, dear, it sounds as if Olympia left us with plenty of food prepared.”

“But I’m eating like a stevedore.”

“Do you know what a stevedore is?”

“No. What?”

Kellen didn’t say anything.

Rae sighed in disgust. “I’ll look it up. In the dictionary.” She made it sound like a dirty word. “But when the food runs out, then what? Daddy can barely make a PB and J and you can’t cook.”

Stung, Kellen said, “I can. I can Army cook. I can open cans.”

“I hate tuna fish.”