Twilight cast an incandescent glow over the Saronic Gulf, as the sun slowly began to peak over the horizon. The reflection of porch lights from homes surrounding the shoreline glimmered like stardust on the water. In less than an hour, the sun would assume its full magisterial position and, as though gifted from the Gods themselves, another day would dawn on this enchanting island. Two by two, a contemplative assembly of young adults leisurely walked along the momentarily vacant main road to Aegina Town. Once daylight broke and the ferryboats pulled into the harbor, the streets would be cluttered with tourists, and it was for this very reason they’d set off at the early hours of the morning. For what they were about to do required solemnity—privacy—a place to pay tribute and share deeply personal remembrances. Evvie had left a note for her mother on the kitchen table before exiting her great-grandmother’s beach house with the rest of the group. She rolled her eyes thinking of how her mother, Sophia, seemed to have the need to know where she was every minute of the day. She Effie Kammenou 2 and her twin brother, Nicky, were nineteen years old and, in Evvie’s mind, their mother sometimes treated them as though they were nine-year-olds. It was the last few days of the ‘extended family’ vacation Evvie’s stepfather, Dean, had arranged for the entire family and Sophia’s closest friends to spend some much-needed bonding time together. The past year had been a difficult one. Dean had almost lost his life in a car accident, and Sophia’s friend, Amy, had been in jeopardy of losing her career and family. But it was RJ and Donna who had suffered the most dreadful tragedy of all. Donna had lost her younger son, and RJ, his only sibling. But RJ was not alone, Evvie thought. They were all brothers and sisters of the heart. After all, they were the children of the ‘Honey Hill Girls,’ and those girls—women—were now fifty years old and still the best of friends. As they approached the harbor of Aegina Town, their destination came into view—a tiny, whitewashed chapel standing proudly at the edge of the dock known as Agios Nikolaos. It was Nicky and her cousin, Stella, two people with the softest of souls, who’d suggested this sojourn. RJ had been overwhelmed with emotion when they’d asked his permission to memorialize his brother, Anthony, who had taken his own life ten months prior in response to the emotional cruelty he could no longer suffer. This was to be their own requiescat inside the near-ancient walls they were about to enter. As Kristos, Stella’s older brother, pushed open the heavy entrance door, a light breeze blew by. A pinging rattle of rope slapped against the high, metal poles standing on either side of the double-domed building, each one waving its own flag. The blue and white banner of Greece and the double-headed eagle emblem representing the Greek Orthodox Church fluttered high above the pristine structure. The chapel was small and the space empty, devoid of pews like many traditional Orthodox churches in Greece. The floor was made of gray marble, with a narrow pathway leading to an altar where images of saints, dulled from time and candle soot, separated themselves from 3 Chasing Petalouthes worshippers. Beautifully painted icons painted above the archway had chipped in random spots, as if to remind newcomers of the many generations that had come to pray before they had.