010. feeding skeletons with buritos

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    KATHLEEN DIDN'T SAY MUCH LATER

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    KATHLEEN DIDN'T SAY MUCH LATER. It was hard to say or do anything when all you felt was guilt. She felt bad about having a panic attack instead of helping her friends. She felt bad about letting Bianca die when she should have done this herself.

   Percy could repeat this a million times. Thalia could do the same. And so could everyone. It wasn't your fault.

   Oh, but it was.

   At least that's what Kathleen thought.

   At the edge of the dump, they found a tow truck so old it might've been thrown away itself. But the engine started, and it had a full tank of gas, so they decided to borrow it.

   Thalia drove. She didn't seem as stunned as Zoë Grover or Percy. And most of all — she wasn't as shaken as Kathleen.

   The daughter of Dionysus started to understand all of this. The panic attack. She had never seen someone die. Or realize someone was dying. And it scared her.

   "The skeletons are still out there," Thalia reminded them, making Kathleen snap back to reality. "We need to keep moving."

   She navigated them through the desert, under clear blue skies, the sand so bright it hurt to look at. Zoë sat up front with Thalia. Grover, Kathleen, and Percy sat in the pickup bed, leaning against the tow wench. The air was cool and dry, but the nice weather just seemed like an insult after losing Bianca.

   Kathleen turned the Hades figurine in her hand, staring at it blankly.

   "It's okay, Leen. You tried to stop her," Percy muttered.

   Kathleen glared at him, her eyes remained empty. "I could've helped you. Instead, I just sat there, not being able to—"

   "You can't control panic attacks," Percy sighed. "And no one, absolutely no one blames you for having it. Especially not me."

Kathleen forced a small smile. She heaved a big sigh, her eyes fixed on the view in front of her. Whatever it was. She started to occupy her mind with something else. She wondered how was Camden doing, or if Nico found some friends at camp.

Nico.

What was she going to tell him? How would she explain that Bianca gave her the figurine before she died?

Kathleen thought about how awful he will feel once she tells him. How cruel the fate was, taking Bianca away.

How would Camden feel without Kathleen?

Grover sniffed. He wiped tears under his eyes with an oily cloth that left his face grimy, as he had on war paint.

"Grover?" Kathleen asked, her eyes softening.

"I'm . . . I'm okay."

But he wasn't okay. Ever since the encounter in New Mexico—whatever had happened when that wild wind blew through—he seemed really fragile, even more emotional than usual.

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