𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫. ── 𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞

𝐱𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐧, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

AELLA DREAMED SHE WAS ON THE beach of Camp Half Blood.

The night was cold, but she'd brought blankets, and with Annabeth and Percy next to her, she didn't need any more warmth.

The air smelled of sage and burning mesquite. On the horizon, the skyline of NYC loomed like jagged black teeth, the dim glow of Manhattan behind them.

The stars were so bright, Ellie had been afraid they wouldn't be able to see the meteor shower, but the meteors did not disappoint. One streaked across the sky almost every minute—a line of white, yellow, or blue fire. Aella was sure Sally would say something to explain them, but at the moment she was busy creating her own story.

Percy took Annabeth's hand—finally—and pointed as two meteors skipped across the atmosphere and formed a cross.

"Wow," he said. "I can't believe no one else wanted to see this."

Ellie smiled. Her brother and her best friend— they so deserved this. They had been in love since they were twelve, and this was the least she could do for the both of them.

"Actually, I didn't invite anyone else." Annabeth softly smiled.

Percy grinned. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mm-hmm. Too many people. Just you. Me. Andy. That's enough for me."

"Yeah," Percy admitted. "Like right now. You know how much trouble we'd get in if we got caught down here?"

That was her cue. She'd been instructed to leave at that line, and as much as her aching heart wanted to stay, she had to leave, hiding behind a thick tree trunk as curiosity got the better of her.

"Um... you guys, I think I'll leave now. I'm a bit—cold."

Percy smiled at her. She knew how much of a favor she was doing for him.

"Annabeth?" Percy scooted closer to her, intertwining his fingers in hers.

"Yeah, Percy?"

"You ever feel like three's a crowd?"

Annabeth grinned, something rare for the serious demigod. "Like right now?"

Percy stood and offered her his hand. They slow danced a few steps, but it quickly turned into a kiss. Andy only left because the moment felt too private for her to watch.

Then her dream changed—or maybe she was dead in the Underworld—because she found herself back in Medea's department store.

"Please let this be a dream," she murmured, "and not my eternal punishment."

"No, dear," said a woman's honey-sweet voice. "No punishment."

Aella turned, afraid she'd see Medea, but a different woman stood next to her, browsing through the fifty-percent-off rack.

The woman was gorgeous—shoulder-length hair, a graceful neck, perfect features, and an amazing figure tucked into jeans and a snowy white top.

Aella had seen her share of goddesses—most of her dad's affairs were knockout beautiful—but this lady was different. She was elegant without trying, fashionable without effort, stunning without makeup. After seeing Aeolus with his silly face-lifts and cosmetics, she thought this woman looked even more astonishing. There was nothing artificial about her.

Yet as she watched, the woman's appearance changed. Aella couldn't decide the color of her eyes, or the exact color of her hair. The woman became more and more beautiful, with piercing blue eyes and light blonde hair, as if her image were aligning itself to Aella's thoughts—getting as close as possible to Andy's ideal of beauty.