A Forgotten Maiden

Chapter 11

Eve sat at the lunch table, her back hunched, her hoodie pulled tight around her small frame. She was quiet—quieter than usual—barely touching her food. Her tray was untouched, save for a few nibbles of an apple. She kept her head down, her long hair falling in front of her face like a shield.

Across from her, Percy and Calypso exchanged concerned glances. Something was definitely off. Eve had always been reserved, but today, there was something more—something tense, like a storm brewing just under the surface.

Percy noticed the way she kept her right arm tucked against her side, barely moving it. And when she did reach for something, she winced, as if the simple motion caused her pain. His stomach twisted. Something was wrong.

"Eve?" Percy said gently, leaning forward, trying to catch her eye. "Are you okay?"

Eve flinched, her eyes flicking up to meet his for a second before darting away again. "Yeah, I'm fine," she muttered quickly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You don't seem fine," Percy pressed, keeping his voice soft, but persistent. He wasn't going to let this go. "Is something wrong?"

Eve shook her head, but the movement was stiff, robotic. "No. I'm good. Just tired."

Calypso, who had been watching in silence, reached out and touched Eve's hand lightly. "You're holding your arm," she said softly. "Are you hurt?"

Eve froze at the question, her entire body going rigid. She instinctively pulled her arm tighter against her side, as if trying to hide it.

Percy frowned, his eyes narrowing in concern. "Eve, let me see your wrist," he said, his voice firmer now. "Please."

Eve's head snapped up, panic flashing in her eyes. "No," she said quickly, yanking her arm away from him as if he'd burned her. "It's fine."

Calypso's voice was calm and soothing. "Eve, we're not trying to make you uncomfortable. We just want to help."

But Eve shook her head again, more violently this time. "I said it's fine," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Percy sighed, frustration bubbling up inside him. He could tell something was wrong, and he hated the thought of anyone being hurt—especially someone as sweet and quiet as Eve. "Eve, just let us see. Please," he said, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. "If someone's hurting you—"

"I said no!" Eve interrupted, her voice sharp and panicked. She shot to her feet, backing away from the table. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear.

The cafeteria felt like it went silent around them, and Percy could feel the stares from nearby tables. But he didn't care about that. All he cared about was Eve.

"Eve, please," Calypso said softly, standing up and moving toward her. "We're not going to judge you. We're your friends."

Eve hesitated, her hands shaking at her sides. For a long moment, it looked like she was about to bolt. But then, slowly, reluctantly, she began to uncurl her arm from where it had been pressed tightly against her body.

Calypso stepped closer, keeping her movements slow and non-threatening. "Can I see?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eve bit her lip, her eyes flicking between Calypso and Percy. Her breathing was shaky, and she looked like she might collapse at any second. But finally, with trembling hands, she pulled back the sleeve of her hoodie, revealing the dark, ugly bruises that wrapped around her wrist like a chain.

Percy's breath caught in his throat.

The skin was mottled with deep purples and greens, the outline of fingers painfully clear. It was obvious someone had grabbed her, hard. Too hard.