Cover

Title Page

Dedication

To my grandmothers, Libby Newman and Khana Vinarskaya

Explore book giveaways, sneak peeks, deals, and more.

Tap here to learn more.

Epigraph

All language is a longing for home.

—Rumi

Chapter One

Joey

Corfu
2004

It was all because they went to the fancy Taverna Salto for the one-year anniversary of their first date.

They nearly opted for something more casual, a picnic in their meadow by the Old Fortress. Why didn’t Joey just insist on the picnic?

But nope, she and Leo set off to celebrate at Taverna Salto, with its distant location from the apartment building by the sea where both their families lived. Corfu Town was awash with its rusty, evening glow when, about halfway to the taverna, Joey paused by an arched stone Venetian colonnade.

“My feet are killing me,” she admitted, gazing down at her new espadrilles that were imprisoning her toes.

“Didn’t someone tell you to wear comfy shoes?” Leo’s green eyes had a laugh inside them.

“I wanted to wear my new ones. But you were right. Next anniversary, you pick my shoes.”

“Just a little farther, Jonesey.”

“FYI, another mile is not just a little farther. I think I’ll go barefoot.”

Leo’s mouth feigned a pucker, like she’d said she was going to lick the floor of an airplane bathroom. He wore flip-flops even in nice hotel rooms. But he knew Joey hated wearing shoes, especially, somehow, on Corfu. Corfu was for flitting barefoot down cobblestone streets.

“If you must, I’ll be on glass patrol.”

“You’re good to me, Winn.”

Joey kicked off her espadrilles. She felt tipsy from their earlier aperitifs, and she also felt very happy, that sometimes elusive sense of finding a home in her own skin. She’d always felt that home-ness with Leo though, ever since they were ten and their families met in the stairwell of their common apartment building. Over successive summers vacationing on Corfu, their separate families had intertwined like one. Joey and Leo were nineteen now, but she’d loved him from the first moment they’d met.

Leo smiled at Joey, a smile that said I like being good to you and I like all the weird things about you.

At Taverna Salto, the maître d’ greeted them each with a handshake. He led them to a table at the edge of a terrace bordered in lush trellises. Beneath a grass-green awning, a local string quartet was playing a set with emotive violin work. Leo pulled out Joey’s chair. Joey felt very grown-up arranging her napkin on her lap as Leo circled the table to his seat—and that was when his eyes took on a strange, startled look.

“We have to go! Now!” Leo practically leaped back to Joey’s side. He yanked on her arm, pulling her up with such force that it shot pain through her shoulder socket.