A Forgotten Maiden

Chapter 12

Calypso didn't know what made her decide to follow Eve that afternoon. Maybe it was the memory of the bruises on her wrist, the way she'd yanked herself away from Percy like he'd burned her. Or maybe it was the look in Eve's eyes—the fear, the hopelessness that clung to her like a shadow.

Whatever it was, Calypso found herself trailing behind Eve as she made her way home after school. She kept her distance, ducking behind bushes and lampposts when necessary, hoping Eve wouldn't notice. Her heart pounded with each step, a mixture of nervousness and determination pushing her forward.

Eve walked with her head down, her shoulders hunched like she was carrying the weight of the world on them. Calypso's stomach twisted. She didn't know much about the modern world, but she knew enough to recognize that something was very, very wrong.

As they moved through the quieter residential streets, Calypso noticed that Eve's pace slowed. She was dragging her feet now, her movements hesitant. When she finally stopped, Calypso ducked behind a tree, watching as Eve stood at the foot of a driveway, staring at the house in front of her.

It was a small, worn-down place. The paint was chipped, the grass overgrown. The windows looked like they hadn't been cleaned in years. But it wasn't the state of the house that caught Calypso's attention—it was the way Eve was looking at it, like it was something to be feared.

Eve's hand hovered over the strap of her backpack, her fingers trembling slightly as she fidgeted with it. She stared at the front door, her bottom lip trembling. It was clear that she didn't want to go inside, and the longer she stood there, the more Calypso's unease grew.

*What's going on in there?* Calypso thought, biting her lip. *Why is she so scared to go home?*

Just as Calypso was about to step forward and maybe say something—anything—she heard it.

Yelling.

A woman's voice, sharp and furious, cut through the air like a knife. Even from where she was standing, Calypso could make out the words.

"Where the hell have you been, Eve? You think you can just come and go whenever you feel like it?"

Eve flinched. She took a step back, like she was considering running. But she didn't. She just stood there, frozen, as the yelling continued.

"I've been slaving away all day, and you can't even bother to come home on time? You ungrateful little—"

The rest of the sentence was drowned out by the sound of something crashing inside the house. Calypso's heart lurched in her chest. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.

*Gods...*

She didn't know what to do. Every instinct screamed at her to intervene, to run up to Eve and pull her away from that house. But would that even help? She wasn't sure what kind of power this world had to protect kids from people like Eve's mother.

Eve stood there for another moment, her face pale, before she finally, reluctantly, took a step forward. She moved slowly, each step heavier than the last, like she was marching toward her own doom. When she reached the front door, her hand hovered over the handle, trembling.

Calypso took a few hesitant steps forward, her heart pounding. She wanted to call out, to stop her, but what could she say? What could she possibly do that wouldn't make things worse?

The door creaked open, and Eve slipped inside. The yelling grew louder for a moment, then the door slammed shut, and everything went silent.

Calypso stood there, staring at the closed door, her chest tight with a mixture of helplessness and anger. She had never been good at just sitting back and watching when someone was in pain—especially not someone like Eve, someone who so clearly needed help but was too scared to ask for it.