How could she have forgotten? Every Monday she and her mother had lunch, but with everything that had happened in the last few days, it completely slipped her mind.
“There is a lovely café down the street,” Demeter continued, but Persephone sensed the tightness in her voice. She knew Persephone had forgotten, and she didn’t like it. “I thought we might try it today. What do you think?”
Persephone thought that she didn’t want to be alone with her mother. Not to mention she had just gained the momentum needed to write this article about Hades. If she stopped now, she might not finish.
“Mother, I’m…so sorry.” Those words felt like glass coming out of her mouth. They were a lie, of course. She wasn’t sorry for what she was about to say. “I’m really busy today. Can we reschedule.”
Demeter blinked. “Reschedule?”
She said the word like she had never heard it before. Her mother hated when things didn’t go her way, and Persephone had never asked to reschedule. She’d always remembered lunch like she’d always remembered her mother’s rules—two things she’d ignored in the last week.
She knew her mother was making a list of offenses she had committed against her and it was just a matter of time before Demeter made her pay.
“I’m so sorry, mother,” Persephone said again.
Demeter finally met her gaze. The Goddess of Harvest was furious, and yet she managed in a perfectly flat tone, “Another time, then.”
Demeter turned on her heels without saying goodbye and left.
Persephone released the breath she’d been holding. She’d spent all this time preparing to fight with her mother, and now that the adrenaline was gone, she felt exhausted.
“Wow, your mother is beautiful,” Valerie’s comment drew Persephone’s gaze. The girl had a dreamy look on her face. “It’s too bad you couldn’t go to lunch with her.”
“Yeah,” Persephone said.
She made her way back to her desk slowly, weighed down by a cloud of guilt until she noticed Adonis standing behind her chair, looking at her laptop screen.
“Adonis,” she said, and slammed her laptop closed as she approached. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, hey, Persephone,” he smiled. “Just reading your article.”
“It’s not finished.” She tried to remain calm, but it was hard. She felt like he’d just invaded her privacy.
“I think it’s good,” he said. “You’ve really got something.”
“Thanks, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t look at my computer, Adonis,” she said.
He sort of laughed. “I’m not going to steal your work if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I told you I’d send the article when I was finished.”
He put his hands up and stepped away from her desk. “Hey, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she said between her teeth. She hated when people told her to calm down. It was disparaging and only made her angrier.
“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I don’t really care what you meant,” she snapped.
Adonis was finally silent. She guessed he realized he wasn’t going to be able to charm his way out of this one.
“Everything okay out here?” Demetri appeared at his door. Persephone glared at Adonis.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Adonis said.
“Persephone?” Demetri asked, looking at her expectantly.
She should have told him no, that in fact, everything was not fine—that she was balancing an impossible contract with the God of the Underworld and hiding the fact from her mother, who would ensure she never saw the gleaming skyscrapers of New Athens again if she found out. On top of that, this mortal seemed to think it was perfectly acceptable to read her personal thoughts—because that’s what this was, a draft of an article she was planning.
And maybe that’s why she was so angry.
Because the words she’d written were raw, angry, and impassioned. They made her vulnerable and if she opened her mouth to contradict Adonis, she wasn’t sure what would come out.
She took a deep breath before forcing the words out of her mouth, “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
And when she saw the smug expression on Adonis’s face, she got the sense she’d regret lying.
***
A few days later, Persephone was late getting to Nevernight. Her study group had run over, and though she was tired, she knew she needed to check on her garden. The dirt in the Underworld held moisture like the desert, which meant she had to water her garden everyday if she wanted it to have a chance in hell of surviving.