When people die, they’re supposed to leave this thing called a will. It’s a legal document that says who they want to leave their house, their money, and their stuff to when they die.

Yiayia didn’t write a will, which turned out to be the biggest mistake of the century. Because when it came to sharing Yiayia’s things, which everyone wanted, just to be close to her and remember her by, the trouble started.

About a week after she died, we sat around the table at Yiayia and Pappou’s house. We were still in shock and missed her so much that we could barely speak.

Mom was there, and my dad, and Aunt Sophia and Uncle Christos, and Uncle Dimitri and Christina, and my siblings and cousins. Pappou sat at the head of the table, his head looked like weights were pulling it down, and it took all his strength just to hold it up.

Eleni sat on my lap on a chair at the table. We held hands and linked legs and wondered if Yiayia’s ghost was in the room with us, because it sure felt like it.

They talked about some of Yiayia’s things and who should have them, and we half listened and half looked around, trying to take in the fact that Yiayia had gone and she was never coming back to use them. The ornaments she’d collected sat on the shelves. Food she’d cooked was in the freezer. Photos of her smiled from the walls and the shelves, and if you looked closely, you could make out the dents where she sat on one side on the sofa.

After a while, Aunt Sophia, her brown hair tied back and her nails painted Toffee Ice Cream, cleared her throat and said, “We need to talk about the wedding necklace.”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. I think Eleni felt me turn stiff because she turned her head to look at me.

I knew this would come up at some point, and I’d been dreading it. I’d kind of hoped they’d forgotten all about it. But no.

Mom looked at Aunt Sophia in confusion. Her hair was neat and her makeup was perfect, but she looked flat, as if life was leaking out of her in a slow hiss, like a punctured beach ball.

“What…are you talking about?” she asked.

“The wedding necklace, it go to Evangelina,” Pappou said, as if that was the only thing that made sense. “She is the oldest girl.” Evangelina is my mother, but no one calls her Evangelina except Yiayia and Pappou. Everyone called her Ange or Angelina, or sometimes Lina-mou.

“But Dad,” Aunt Soph said, “this is why we need to talk about it. I don’t know how to tell you this, but…” She paused, looked at my mom, and then came out with it. “Eleni said Mom wanted her to have the necklace.”

My mother froze. I did, too. I think the whole room did. Maybe the whole universe.

Mom whispered, “What are you talking about?”

Aunt Soph took in all the eyes staring at her and continued. “She told Eleni about it just before she died. Obviously, Christina will wear it when she marries Dimitri, and when the time comes, Katerina and Kallie, and Elias and Nicos’s wives, and Lexie and Eleni. But Mom promised the necklace to Eleni when she was a baby.”

There was silence. Every person at that table was in shock and sat as still as statues. Everyone, that is, except Eleni and me, because we already knew.

“You what?” Uncle Dimitri asked. He was wearing a light shirt and had a long strand of Christina’s dark hair sitting in an S shape on his arm. I wanted to lift it off, but it wasn’t the right time. “Where’d you get that from? I never heard Mom say that. Did you, Dad?”

“How could you?” Mom asked Aunt Soph in a tight, hard voice. “What is it with you and taking my stuff all the time?”

“OH MY GOD! I’m not taking your stuff! This isn’t about me. It’s about Mom and the necklace.”

“That necklace is coming to me and you know it. It gets passed to the oldest girl. That’s the tradition.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? But it’s not what Mom wanted. She told Eleni on the night of the engagement party that she was keeping it for her.”

Mom’s face turned white—she looked as if she was going to pass out. I’d never seen her look like that before, and it terrified me. Maybe I should have said something then…but I couldn’t. I was too afraid.

After a short silence that lasted forever, she looked at Aunt Soph, shook her head, and whispered, “Unbelievable. How could you do this to me?”

“Angelina,” Aunt Soph said, leaning over to take Mom’s hand, but Mom pulled it away like she’d just touched something red hot. Aunt Soph drew her hand back and said, “Don’t do this. I swear to you, this is what Mom wanted. She made this…deal with Eleni when she’d just come out of her first operation. I know it sounds silly but I’m not making this up. Eleni told me yesterday.”

Eleni’s eyes fixed on me, but I couldn’t look at her. The weight in the room made everything happen in slow motion, and my whole body was stiff with fear. What should I do? What should I say? But actually, I couldn’t do or say anything.

“Tradition,” Pappou said with a crack in his voice. “Tradition says the necklace it go to Evangelina.”

“I know that, Dad. But, according to Eleni, Mom said herself that just this once her promise overrides tradition.”

“No!” Mom said, her eyes wild and angry as she stabbed her finger on the table. “Nothing…overrides…tradition. I’ve loved that necklace since I was a little girl. I always knew it was coming to me. Don’t take this away from me. Not when I’ve lost her as well.”

Aunt Soph stuck her jaw out and said, “You’re not the only one who’s lost her.”

“Girls!” Pappou shouted, making me jump. “NO! Not this. Not this!”

Aunt Sophia gazed at Mom with pleading eyes, but Mom was staring at the air above the table with tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Ange, please. Listen to me. Why would I not want you to have it? I know how much you love that necklace. I just want to respect Mom’s wishes. You know how she felt about Eleni.”

And then my mom snapped. With a look of fury on her face and spit spraying out of her mouth, she shouted, “Eleni, Eleni, Eleni! Since the day she was born, all we ever hear is Eleni! What about my children? What about Katerina? She’s supposed to get that necklace after me. What about Lexie? She’s important, too, you know. Eleni is not the only child in this family!”

Aunt Soph gasped. I did, too. I’d never heard my mom say anything like that before. None of us had. We all knew how special Eleni was.

Pappou suddenly banged the table and shouted, “NOT THIS! I SAY, NO! NOT THIS!”

My mother pushed her chair back hard, making a heart-scraping, brain-scraping noise. Her eyes were bright and furious and her nostrils flared. “It’s my necklace. End of discussion. Andy, get the kids. We’re going.”

The rest of us looked at each other with frantic eyes.

“Course,” my dad said in his deep boom-bass voice, and he picked up his new set of car keys. (The old ones never worked right after being thrown in the sea.)

I stood up and glanced at Eleni in panic.

Why didn’t you say anything? she asked me in whale song.

But I couldn’t answer. Not in words and not in whale song. Because I didn’t even know myself.