{BOOK 3} Percy Jackson's Sister

Mother Does Not Know Best

We ran out onto 81st street when someone pulled me into the alley. I struggled to free myself but the grip was strong.

I turned to face my captor and it was the last person I wanted to see.

"Listen, lady-,"

"It's Jess," she said. "I just want to talk-"

"And I just want a sports car, we don't all get what we want."

This lady had somehow gotten Sally's address, showed up around Christmas time, and claimed to be my mother. I had told her to leave us alone because my mother had died when I was little, right in front of me, but she practically swore on the Styx that she had birthed me.

Jess was dressed in jeans and a shirt with a book quote on it. Her curly disheveled hair was a deep black color and her body language made it clear she was annoyed. She crossed her arms in frustration.

She reached to pull out something from her purse and I tugged on one of the charms of my bracelet, ready to draw my weapon.

"Celestial bronze doesn't hurt mortals, mija," she said.

I didn't like how that nickname sounded in her mouth.

"How do you know that?"

She pulled out a manila folder and handed it to me. "Your father told me."

I opened it and saw a birth certificate with my name on it. First name, middle name, and two last names. Under my mother's name, Jessica Martinez. Under my father's, it was blank. I guess filling in "Poseidon, the Greek god of the ocean" wasn't an option.

It was hard not to believe her with that kind of evidence and her constant persistence but still, I shoved it back in her hands and started to walk away. She followed.

"I'll do a blood test, if you want," she suggested. "Anything you want, just let me prove to you I'm not lying."

"You want to prove it to me?" I asked. "Tell me why I grew up with you?"

She paused, probably thinking up some lie. Clearly, she was a terrible liar. Another reason I couldn't believe she was my mother.

"The truth," I insisted.

When she didn't answer, I started to walk away again.

"I was young," she stopped me. "And a little irresponsible. I wasn't ready for a kid. As soon as you were born, I left you with a family friend and ran away. I instantly regretted it."

I gave her a look of disbelief.

"Okay," she corrected herself. "Not instantly. It took me a couple of years but by then, you had a new mother. Faith did a wonderful job raising you."

She reached her hand to touch my face but I started walking away again. I didn't want to know how she knew my real mother's name.

"I just wanted to see how you grew up to be," she kept following me.

I stopped and turned to her. "Like what you see? Or are you so disappointed you wanna leave me again?"

"Cas," she said. "Let me explain."

"Listen, I got other shit-"

"Language."

"You don't get to correct me," I said. "I got other shit going on, more important than whatever you have to say to me."

"Can you at least consider listening to your mother-"

"My mother is dead. The only person I can consider a mother right now is in a car down that street waiting for me to finish the school orientation that my brother and I just messed up," I said. "I'll see you around."