Heart of a Traitor

11: (I'll Never Be) Satisfied

Three things happen at once. As soon as Grover's words register, I demand he explains himself, to at least tell us what's going on before he freaks out. Jake marches into the house and disappears inside. Before the front door can close all the way, my mom stumbles out, dressed in yoga pants and a tee shirt.

"Grover?" She frowns. "What's going on?"

He looks at her. "Mrs. Armstrong. Hi. I hate to break the news, but today's the day that Helen finds out."

My mom's face falls.

I take a step towards Grover. "What are you talking about? What's going on?"

"Grover, you told me I had until her fourteenth birthday—" my mom climbs down the steps of our front porch, making her way for Grover.

He puts his hands away, trying to prove his innocence. "I know I did. I thought we had that much time, but..."

I don't hear the rest of what he says because just then Jake comes back outside with two backpacks slung over each of his shoulders. He walks right past me and starts up Medusa.

I look back at Grover. He's currently in an animated conversation, trying to explain himself before my mom tears him to shreds.

"Grover!" I yell. This time I'm loud enough to gain everyone's attention. "What the hell is going on?!"

"Helen!" My mom gasps.

I mutter a halfhearted apology, never taking my eyes off of Grover. "What am I supposed to find out today?"

He glances at something behind Me. It takes me a second to realize he's looking at Jake.

"We'll explain everything in the car," my brother says from the driver's seat.

I look between the three of them. "We?"

Grover grabs my arm and pulls me towards Medusa. "Jake's right. We need to get you out of here."

"What? Why?" I glance behind me. My mom watches me leave, tears in her eyes. "Mom!?"

"I love you, Helen!" She hollers. "Remember that, no matter what happens. Jake—call me as soon as you're all safe."

That's all she has time to say before Grover and I are in the truck. Jake pulls out of the driveway and speeds down the road.

There's a moment when your instinct takes over. It tells you something that, though it may not seem logical, probably is. That's what happened then. As we drive away from my house, I get the feeling that I should take in the sight of it, that I need to memorize it. Because for some reason I know, deep in my bones, that I'm not going to see that house for a long time.

Absentmindedly, I rub the three-year-old scar on my forearm. The jagged "X" reminds me of the first time I ever dreamed of Kronos—and how his touch scalded my skin. Touching the scar had become a nervous habit of mine in the last few years.

"So, you know the Greek myths Mr. Brunner tells us about right?" Grover begins.

"She knew about them before that class," Jake tells him.

"What about them?" I wonder.

"What would you do if I told you that they're not myths?" Grover wonders in a hypothetical-isque voice.