The car was silent as Summer drove us back to her apartment, but my mind was anything but. The reporter’s words replayed over and over, my thoughts spinning in directions I hadn’t even considered before. Aunt Argyros’ death had been a shadow in our family for years, one we rarely discussed. I’d been told it was an illness—cancer, if I remembered correctly. But had that been a lie?

Summer cast a glance my way as we pulled into her building’s parking lot. “Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.”

I nodded, though I knew I wasn’t fooling her. “It’s just… Aunt Argyros’ death. I thought it was natural, but now… I don’t know.” I looked at her, searching for some answer in her expression. “Why would someone say there was foul play?”

Summer sighed, cutting the engine and turning to face me. “Yuki, people love mysteries. And with your family’s… well, colorful history, the media would pounce on anything remotely suspicious.” She reached over, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “That doesn’t mean it’s true. Your mom would have told you if something was really wrong, right?”

But that was just it—would she? My mother had always been distant when it came to family history, especially anything involving Aunt Argyros, Areti, or Sophoneia. The three sisters had shared something dark between them, something they’d never let us kids know about.

The whole evening, the reporter’s words haunted me. Finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I grabbed the phone, dialing home, desperate to talk to my mother. The phone rang endlessly, and just as I was about to hang up, a familiar voice answered.

“Hello?” It was Adara, her voice calm but slightly strained.

“Mom, it’s me. I…” I hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. “I ran into some reporters, and they asked about Aunt Argyros. They said… they said her death might not have been natural.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end, followed by a long pause. Finally, she spoke, her voice carefully controlled. “Yuki, listen to me. That’s just rumor and gossip. You know how people are when it comes to our family.”

“But… is there any truth to it?” I pressed, barely able to contain my anxiety.

Another pause. “You have to understand, there were… complications with Argyros’ health. She was very ill, and people will always try to twist a tragedy.” Her tone softened, almost pleading. “Please, Yuki, let it go. For your own peace of mind.”

Her answer didn’t satisfy me, but I forced myself to nod, as though she could see it. “Alright, Mom. I just… needed to hear it from you.”

After we hung up, I sat there, her words ringing hollow in my mind. She hadn’t denied the possibility outright, and that left a hollow, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. There was something here, some buried truth that my mother wasn’t ready to reveal.

I had packed mom's old diary in my bag,the one she had when she was a teenager,sure it was all written in Greek but...I need to find out what the hell is happening.

"Umm hey, Summer, can we go to a library? I, uh… I need to look something up for my classes. Just a few reference books, you know?"

Summer looked at me, surprised. “Sure thing, kid. Didn’t know you were planning to study on vacation, though.”

I managed a small laugh, hoping it sounded casual. “Yeah, well, you know my dad—always pushing me to stay on top of things.” I forced a smile, trying to hide the nervousness that had been bubbling since that phone call with Mom.

She shrugged, nodding. “Alright, library it is. I’ll drop you off and run a few errands. Just call me when you’re done, yeah?”

"Perfect," I replied, relieved.

As we pulled up to the library, I could feel my heart racing. I clutched the diary in my bag, taking a deep breath as I stepped out of the car. “Thanks, Summer. I’ll be quick.”

Inside, the scent of old books and polished wood greeted me, calming my nerves. I approached the information desk, where a librarian gave me a warm smile. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, actually,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need a Greek-English dictionary, and maybe some grammar resources for… translating a text.”

The librarian nodded. “Of course! We have a section for that. Follow me.”

She led me to a quiet corner where a few worn Greek dictionaries and grammar guides sat on the shelves. I thanked her and sat down, pulling Mom’s diary out of my bag. I opened it carefully, the inked Greek letters jumping out at me like hidden secrets waiting to be unlocked.

Starting with the first entry, I slowly began translating, flipping between the dictionary and grammar guides to make sense of the unfamiliar phrases. Most of it was typical teenage stuff—crushes, school drama, little snapshots of Mom’s younger life. But then, further in, I started to notice names I recognized: Areti, Sophoneia, and… Argyros.

There were descriptions of arguments, family secrets, and hints at tensions I couldn’t fully understand yet. But one phrase stood out, one that sent a chill down my spine:

"Nothing will ever be the same after what happened with Argyros."

My hands shook as I copied the line onto my notepad. What had happened? And why had my mom never mentioned it?

The answer was somewhere in these pages—hidden in the Greek I was barely beginning to understand.