The Aegean night gave way to an absolute, breathless morning off the coast of Naxos. The sea lay flat and white-gold under a pale sky, so calm that the silhouette of the mast mirrored perfectly on the surface, dissolving only when a solitary seabird dipped its wing to touch the water.
Ethan was crouched at the bow, unfastening the forestay lock to check the tension on the headfoil. He wore a faded linen shirt with the sleeves rolled past his elbows, his hands moving with that effortless, practiced efficiency that had once re-engineered global trade infrastructure. Now, it was dedicated entirely to keeping our small home afloat.
"The wind is going to drop off by noon," Ethan called back, his low voice carrying easily across the silent deck. He stood up, wiping his hands on a cotton rag, a
