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…right?
I spend a few minutes on Google, trying to find research that backs up my supposition. Unfortunately, all I find is a bunch of tech nerds arguing. I can feel a headache building when I try to read any of that stuff, honestly.
What’s the worst that could happen?
It takes a couple of minutes to pull up my email through the iPad’s browser, but when I do, I’m surprised. There are ten emails from my brother, all with WHERE ARE YOU and ARE YOU OKAY followed by question marks.
My lips twitch. Lawrence is usually not the greatest at keeping in touch with me. The fact that he has been trying to reach me kind of tickles me.
I start to open the first email when a dialogue box pops up, beeping alarmingly.
INCOMING CALL - LAWRENCE.
ACCEPT? CANCEL?
I lick my lips, my finger hovering over the buttons. Lawrence must be going crazy if he is actually calling me. I know I should decline, but I hit accept.
In an instant, a video chat screen blooms, taking up the entire iPad. There I see my mom and Lawrence. My mom has straight, waist length silvery blonde hair that is piled in a gigantic bun on her head; she wears a loose gray t-shirt underneath tight black corduroy overalls. She’s standing next to my impeccably dressed brother Lawrence, with his close-cropped dark hair, wire-framed glasses, and sleek black track suit.
My mom pops her rainbow colored glasses and arches a brow at me. “Are you there, Persephone?”
My brother skewers my mother with a glance. “Hello, Seppie. I’ve been emailing and calling your phone for weeks.”
I squint at him, my cheeks coloring. “I left well over a month ago.”
“Persephone, darling.” My mother rips off her glasses and gives me an exasperated look. “You can’t just run off like this. People will eventually ask around about you.” She leans in, intoning the last few words. “Your father is quite worried about you too. Where are you?”
I swallow, giving my surroundings a quick glance. The dark wood and white linen of the bed behind me are not easily recognizable. Sucking in a breath, I know that Hades would kill me if I just told anyone our location.
“I’m safe,” I say, answering their questions in the only way I know how. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Persephone, I’m really going to need you to come back here right now. I let you hide out after that unfortunate accident…”
I close my eyes, stung by my mother’s words.
“Mom,” Lawrence chides her. “Constantine tried to kill Persephone. Whatever fantasy you are harboring…” He waves his hand over her, his face contorting. “You should get with the program. It’s like, hashtag believe women, hashtag me too.” He looks down his nose at me, his lips twitching. “I told you that Constantine was a bad guy, didn’t I?”
“Why did I answer this call?” I wonder aloud.
“Because we are your family, young lady.” My mom cocks her hip, taking the camera from my brother. She looks down into it, her expression turning strict. “Persephone Cora Corbin, you need to come home right now. I have enough going on here in my art studio, trying to teach all of my apprentices. You should try and re-integrate yourself with them, darling.” She pauses. “Maybe if you do that, Constantine will grow jealous and come back to you. You could do worse than having a powerful man like Constantine in your corner.”
“Mom!” I gasp, shocked. “He left me for dead on that beach! He’s not going to swoop in and marry me now.” My mouth fills with bile. “God, not that I’d want him to anyway.”
“It was just a misunderstanding, surely.” Mom flicks a hand at me. “You two should really try and work it out. You would make such lovely children.”
Lawrence rips the camera out of her hands.
“Bleh, stop talking.” He sets the camera upright, rolling his eyes. “That’s some kind of narcissistic mental illness just pouring out of her mouth. Ignore it. Just… you’re okay, right? Not hurt or anything?”
I instinctively reach for my ribs, which are still bandaged from being knifed in Monaco. Telling my brother about that isn’t likely to help anyone, though.
“I’m fine.” I purse my lips. “I should go.”
“No!” my mom howls. “You need to come back! Just tell us where you are, darling…”
There isn’t a chance in hell that I’m telling her where I am. Her insistence that I return home is weird, given that she couldn’t even be bothered to visit when I was in the hospital for over a month.
I grit my teeth. “I’ll call you later, Lawrence.”
