VALERIE GREENWOOD IS AN excellent actress. She has been since she was old enough to walk and talk.

However, lying to socialites and teachers and acquaintances has never hurt like this.

Pretending to be happy and alright and lively has driven a knife into her chest and twisted, and it twists even more with every beaming smile she gives Travis.

She has seen her father, either in her dreams or on the street, hiding within the bustling crowds, every day that they have been in the city. His stark white hair stands out no matter where she sees him, and she is forced to hide the panic that rises up in her throat each and every time.

So as she sits at a table at a fancy brunch place, Josslyn across from her with a pinched expression, she pretends that everything is fine.

"It was nice of your boyfriend to offer to watch Eli." Josslyn says around the rim of her coffee cup. She takes her coffee just like their mother does—a dash of cream, two spoonfulls of sugar, and piping hot.

Valerie has given up on arguing. "When you mentioned brunch, and that Jonah was back in Connecticut this week, he jumped at the chance. He thought we could use some bonding time." She says the word bonding as if it means the same thing as dental work, and her eyes scan the restaurant. "He's nicer than I'll ever be."

She feels Josslyn's scrutinizing gaze on her face. "Why do you seem mad about that? The fact that he's nice to you and does things to make your life easier, I mean." The eldest Greenwood Girl asks, her voice a measured cadence that doesn't waver or shake.

"Because I'm not used to people doing that for me."

Valerie nearly jumps out of her skin when Josslyn sets a diamond ringed hand on her arm. "Val, can I be honest with you? Brutally honest?"

It takes a large amount of effort not to snort, because Josslyn Greenwood-Fisher has never been anything but brutally honest. "Sure, Joss." She says, half because she wants to know what her sister has to say and half because she knows it's inevitable.

Surprisingly enough, there is sympathy in Josslyn's blue eyes. "I know you haven't had it easy. You had a rough childhood, and I'm sure the doctors and psychiatrists were more than a kid should have to go through." She pauses, steels herself, and allows the media-trained facade to slip away for the briefest of moments. "What I want to say is that I'm sorry. For not being patient when you had a foot in both worlds. For not taking the time to know the person you were growing into. For not asking about your other life."

Something hot and uncomfortably dizzying builds behind Valerie's eyes. "Please stop." She whispers.

"I want to know you, alright? Who are you, as an adult? Tell me about camp. Tell me about your...is it a cottage?"

A bursting laugh comes out of Valerie. "My cabin. It's, um, it's dark gray on the outside, but it has stained glass windows all around, and a stained glass door. I designed the whole thing myself, so it's just one big room with a bed and all my records and a couch and band posters." She says, the words flowing more easily now.

It's so strange to hear Josslyn asking about her life when she's never been remotely interested before. It's even stranger to see her genuinely smile, nodding along to every word that comes out of Valerie's mouth.

Josslyn takes a sip of her coffee. "Tell me more. Tell me about the kids you train. Are any of them as good as you?"

Rolling her eyes, Valerie shakes her head, bronze-brown hair brushing against the small of her back. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course they're not. No one's as good as me." She says, and a conspiratorial smile overtakes her face. Being normal feels surprisingly nice. "I have a couple kids that are really good. Like, Pete? He's great. It's a shame he wasn't old enough to fight during the wars, because he could have made a difference."

The wars. Valerie watches as Josslyn's smile dims. Whether or not she understands what the demigods went through that day, those years, Valerie doesn't know.

"The Greenwoods are survivors, Valerie." Josslyn says evenly, certainly. "We have survived everything we've been put through. You are no different. You are built to last."

The kindness in Josslyn's voice makes Valerie want to tell her everything—about Morpheus, about the demands, about the idea that his power is the only thing keeping her alive, both literally and figuratively. She's never been able to tell anyone the truth of the matter, the fact that Morpheus only has to pull a single string for Valerie to do his bidding for the rest of her life. In all honesty, Valerie is not built to last. She is meant to burn out early, to live brightly and vividly and die too young. That is her destiny.

Instead of telling the truth, Valerie raises her coffee cup to her lips. "Thank you for making time to talk to me." She says, her throat tight with what she now knows is a pleasant, happy emotion—love.

Josslyn's smile returns, bright and beaming. "I actually have a present for you." She leans over to root in her purse, digging around until she is able to pull out a small box wrapped in onyx wrapping paper, and she slides the box across the table.

Under the wrapping paper and within the box is a cellphone. It's dated, the kind that has one tiny screen and flips open, but it's a phone nonetheless.

Valerie opens her mouth, about to say that she can't accept it for a million reasons, but Josslyn holds up a silencing hand.

"I know you can't use it. I know it'll attract monsters and gods and whatever else you deal with every day. But I want you to have it." Her hand squeezes Valerie's wrist. "So you can call me every once in a while. And if you decide to stay here, in the city, sometimes, you can call Alyssa, and that cute little boyfriend of yours."

The only thing Valerie can say is, "He's not my boyfriend."

"Semantics."

|

The phone is cool against Valerie's ear as it rings, and she paces around the small restaurant bathroom. It seems like there won't be an answer for a long while, until there is a click.

"Delphi Strawberry Ser—"

"Put me through to Alyssa. Please."

Chiron hesitates for a moment. "Alright, Valerie. One moment, please."

The anger she feels towards him is sudden and shocking. Chiron, who raised her from the age of ten years old, has shown her less kindness in ten years than she's felt in the two weeks she has been home. She's so angry at him that she feels it rising in her chest.

And when Alyssa comes to the phone, Valerie feels relief. "Lyss. It's me."

"Oh, my gods. You totally slept with him!" Alyssa bursts, her voice staticky through the phone call. "Don't even try to deny it. I can hear it in your voice. You are no longer a virgin."

A burning flush spreads from Valerie's chest, up her neck, and all over her face. She's blushing, maybe for the first time in her life. "I can't confirm or deny."

Alyssa squeals, and she whispers to someone on the other end of the call. "She totally hooked up with him!" When she clears her throat, her voice sounding closer to the receiver, she seems more calm. "Sorry. Katie wanted to know what was happening. But how was it? Was losing your virginity as magical as you thought?"

"Alyssa." Valerie's voice trembles as she holds in a laugh. "Listen, it looks like I'll be back in a week." She says.

She can almost see Alyssa's eyebrows raising. "I thought you missed your sisters too much to come back on time."

Something pinches within Valerie's chest. "I do. It's been nice to be home, and I know I'll move back for good at some point, but I'm not meant to be here right now. My life is back at camp."

"So you're coming back? You're not leaving me with these idiots forever?"

"Hey!"

"Sorry, babe."

Valerie can't help but smile to herself. "No, Lyss. I'm not leaving you forever." She teases. "I'll be back soon, alright?"

Alyssa's grin is audible. "I love you, Valerie Greenwood."

The words catch in Valerie's throat—always those three words that get caught behind her teeth and refuse to leave her mouth. "I'll see you soon."

|

Josslyn isn't alone when Valerie returns to the table.

A man, tall and fair with hair as white as snow, sits across from the oldest Greenwood Girl, his back facing Valerie as she approaches.

"Val!" Josslyn says excitedly, her smile beaming and bright but not quite reaching her eyes. "This is Murphy. He runs the Greenwood in Athens."

The man—Murphy—turns around, and his molten bronze eyes land on Valerie, a wicked twist to his lips. "Valerie. It's lovely to meet you."

No. No. This is a nightmare. This is just a bad dream. I'll wake up any minute now, back in the hotel room with Travis. This is just a nightmare.

Morpheus has found her again, and he's watching her face in search of a reaction from her. He's waiting for it, waiting for her to reveal his true identity, waiting for her to cause a scene in a room full of innocent mortals—as if to see if her morals have changed in the past two years, because a confrontation between them would mean carnage. It would mean blood shed in this cafe. It would mean Josslyn seeing what her sister truly is.

"Murphy. It's nice to meet you." Valerie says after seconds that feel like hours. Her heart is in her throat, every beat of her pulse making her windpipe constrict. She is convinced that this is her demise, death no longer on the horizon but right in front of her.

She needs Travis. He can't be here with Morpheus within range, for the god of dreams will do anything to hurt her, but she needs him here.

Her phantom hand reaches across the city, to wherever he is, when he's spending the day babysitting her nephew and littlest sister. He'd promised to take them to the Central Park Zoo, and she searches for him there, her powers stretching to find him as quickly as possible. For the first time in her life, her abilities are shaky, inaccurate.

It takes her longer than she'd like to admit to find him. And when she locates him, she sends a blaring SOS across the bond that links their minds.

He doesn't respond, and the feeling of dying descends upon her.

The figments of her power scream in pain when Morpheus crushes them with his own. "I hope it's alright that I intruded on your lunch plans. It's very rare that I run into people I know in the city." His accent is clipped, almost American but with something more ancient running beneath it.

"No, it's fine." Josslyn says quickly, still smiling blankly.

It's clear to Valerie, almlost immediately, that Morpheus has infiltrated Josslyn's mind in whatever way he can. She would not be so amicable otherwise. Because Josslyn has always fought for privacy, whether it be privacy from strangers or privacy from the media.

Valerie treads carefully. "Joss, let's go." She says, well aware that Morpheus can see her hands shaking.

The smell of Chanel No. 5 spreads when Josslyn whips her head to the side to look at her. "You're being rude. Sit down."

"Please, Valerie. Sit with us." Morpheus says, his voice walking along the edge between kindness and condescending. "It will make your sister happy."

A muscle twitches in Valerie's face, just above her eyebrow. Every bone in her body screams at her to run or to fight, but she won't, can't. She's not that person anymore—the one who sets off bombs in bars and hurts innocent people without reason.

She hates her father more than anything, but she loves her sister more.

Valerie sits down, nearly shaking with how hard she is trying to hold back the urges that run just beneath her skin. Death and destruction runs in her blood, for she is a granddaughter of Tartarus and a daughter of violence.

The world feels like it is ending as she sits across from him.