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There’s a knock at the door. “I have lunch,” Brigit calls. “Can I bring it in? There’s no light on in the hall.”
“Daisy’s awake,” Zeus answers.
They must break the door down, because Brigit and Ashley burst in, talking over one another, and my mom laughs a little bit and moves out of the way so they can kiss my temples, too.
“Artemis is going to be so happy,” Brigit says. “Should I—”
“She’s been awake for five minutes,” my dad says. “Let’s wait at least twenty to crowd her.”
“Of course, of course. Daisy, what do you want to eat? Cook made sandwiches, but if you’d rather have an easier lunch, like a burrito—”
“How is a burrito easier than a sandwich?” Poseidon asks.
“It’s all wrapped up in a tortilla, so there’s less chance of the insides falling out.” I can’t see Ashley roll her eyes, but I can hear it in her voice. “Which might be handy if you’re eating in complete darkness.”
“I don’t have to eat in complete darkness,” I say.
Another awkward silence.
“Yeah, you do,” Hercules says finally.
“What?”
“You woke up once before. One of those balls almost took you out.”
My dad actually flinches.
“And the screaming,” continues Hercules, “almost took out the rest of us. I’d say, until this is…resolved, there’s no light for you. At all.”
“Is that why you told them about the dreams?”
“Yes.”
His pause goes on long enough that it’s obvious he’s hiding something.
“…and what?”
Hercules squeezes my hand. “The important thing is, you’re safe. We’ve secured the perimeter.”
“Oh my God.” This conversation already hurts. It’s already tiring, and I don’t know how long I’ve been out. “You did not say that to me right now. Why would it matter? The perimeter here is always secure.”
“Two nights ago—”
“Two?”
“Yeah, Daisy. Two nights ago is when you had that dream. And when somebody blew up the mailbox.”
“The…mailbox? What mailbox?”
My dad is tense again. Not good.Reallynot good. And I don’t know if it’s because of the nightmares or the seizures or the general tension of the moment, but I can’t remember if wehavea mailbox.
“The one on the outside of the front gates,” Hercules says. “An unidentified man left an explosive inside. It went off while I was trying to get the seizure to stop.”
My stomach sinks. It’s empty and hollow, which is how it always is after a seizure as the result of the part where I throw up. But it’s worse this time. Worse, because whoever was after me in California followed me here.
“Does that mean they’re after you?” Nobody answers. “Dad?”
“I don’t know,” he answers.
