My name is Elena Kallas, and I am the daughter of Milos Christakos. I do not know how to tell you this so I am just going to come out with it. Two weeks ago, a day before you sent your first message to my father, my father was in an accident. He was walking to the fishing wharf on our island. At ninety-four, he still walked that route every day. He liked to have a coffee and watch the boats coming back from sea. But as he was crossing a street, he was struck by a car. He was admitted to the General Hospital of Lefkada, and by the time I rushed over, he was in a coma.

Oh, Mrs. Bezas. I am so sorry to say it. My father is very loved. We were all there. I have three grown children, and my brother, Adelphos, has four. The doctor said my father wouldn’t make it, that it would be a matter of hours.

Two days later, my father still hung on. I signed into his email. I was trying to reconstruct his life. He’d lived alone for so many years. My mother died when I was young, and he’d never had a partner since. I figured there would be bills to pay. Friends to contact. I saw an email fresh in his box notifying him of a Facebook message from you.

I instantly knew who you were. You see, fifteen years ago, my father asked me to accompany him to a reunion of Holocaust survivors on the island of Corfu. He told me that, when he was a teenager, he fell in love with a Jewish girl. That he didn’t want to be disloyal to the memory of my mother, but that he’d loved this girl with all his soul. He wanted to know she was okay. He wanted one more chance to see her. This girl was you, of course. We went to the reunion and met your daughter. I’m sure she’s told you. I translated as my father told your daughter that not a day goes by that he doesn’t think of you. Your daughter said you were happily married. She said she would give you my father’s contact information.

If there is one thing in life you should not doubt, please know how my father loved you. I watched the tears run down his face as we took the ferry back to Igoumenitsa. He told me you had once taken the ferry together.