When Vicky is rested, she looks young and jokes with you. When she's tired, her eyes puff up and she complains about almost anything. Her daughter, Katerina, who's nine, has the same dark hair, expressive face and uninhibited demeanor. Vicky rents the first floor of a white, three-story house. There is a small front yard with bright orange flowers that a chain-link fence separates from the sidewalk.
Photographs cover the walls in the living room.
She stopped lessons last year. Katerina's bedroom is full of toys and other contraptions. My dream is to take her to Greece. Right now I don't have enough money. Bills go up, they don't go down.