Chapter 36: Chapter Thirty Five

Athena

Lying in my hospital bed, with nothing to do except watch TV—which didn't interest me much—I couldn't help but reflect on my life. My mother, Hera, had once told me that James never cared to see me or Aurelia after we were born because we were girls, and he had wanted a son.

The first time I saw James's cruel side was when I was six. I don't remember exactly what happened, but I had lied to protect my sister, Aurelia. In response, James backhanded me so violently that I lost two teeth, and my head slammed against the hardwood floor as I fell. The rest is a blur, but I woke up in the emergency room, and Mom told me I had been unconscious for three days.

I had suffered a concussion, a fractured skull, a bruised jaw, and a dislocated shoulder. For weeks, I hadn’t gone to school because of my injuries. As my sister and I grew older, our anxiety levels soared every time we heard James’s police cruiser pull into the driveway. 

Mom would whisper for us to hide, stay out of sight and not come out until he had gone to bed. Thankfully, he always slept soundly, so we were safe until the next morning when he left for work.

My life felt like an endless hell, with my heart constantly racing. I was always bracing for something bad to happen, and not even avoiding the heartache at home by going to school helped—it was just as terrible there. Aurelia and I were each other’s only true friends, as no one else wanted to play with us. 

Things only got worse after Aurelia died, and I didn’t think I could endure it much longer, but I was too terrified for my own life and my mother’s to leave.

After my mother’s death and my entry into the foster care system, I lived as though I didn’t truly exist. But everything changed when Beatrix Sanderson arrived at the orphanage to adopt a teenage girl—and found me. Or, more accurately, I stumbled into her path. 

~~Flashback~~

Five years ago 

The scent of aged wood and freshly picked flowers hung in the air, blending with the polished gleam of the hardwood floors. The furniture was spotless, and the large common room buzzed with soft chatter. Younger children sat in small groups, reading, playing, or stealing curious glances at the unfamiliar woman standing in the doorway. 

The way she carried herself made it clear she was someone important, which was why most of them had dressed in their Sunday best.

Beatrix Sanderson, poised and commanding in a tailored dress, surveyed the room with sharp, discerning, yet detached eyes. Beside her stood the orphanage director, Sister Margaret, whose expression was a mixture of anticipation and unease.

It wasn’t every day a woman like Beatrix Sanderson visited the orphanage with the intent of adopting one of the teenage girls.

"Mrs. Sanderson, we have several bright young girls who would be honored to be considered. I understand you're looking for a child around ten or twelve?" Sister Margaret asked.

"Preferably, yes. But I also want a child who carries herself well. Someone with... presence," Beatrix replied.

"Um..." Sister Margaret began, but her words were abruptly cut off by a piercing scream that echoed through the room, halting everything in its wake.

The noise had come from outside, likely the courtyard situated just behind the building housing the common room. Sister Margaret didn’t need to investigate to know the source of the voice; it was unmistakably Alissa.

Sister Mary came running, her face full of panic. "Sister Margaret, Athena's at it again," she said, breathless. "She yanked a handful of Alissa's hair."

"This is the third time this month," Sister Margaret sighed in exasperation. "Where is she?"

"She left as soon as I arrived," Sister Mary responded. "She's becoming harder to manage. She wasn't like this before moving in with the Austins. When she returned, she was even more troubled."

Sister Margaret gave Beatrix an apologetic glance. "I'm truly sorry, Ma'am," she said. "If you don't mind, Sister Mary would..."

"Let's do this another time," Beatrix interrupted, her voice impatient. Just as she spun around to leave, I accidentally collided with her, bounced off, and ended up on my backside. Thankfully, she didn't fall, as Sister Mary quickly steadied her.

"Athena!" Sister Margaret exclaimed, her tone stern.

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am," I quickly apologized, scrambling to my feet. "I didn't see you there."

"You should pay more attention to where you're going," Beatrix snapped, her tone sharp.

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

"Just the person I wanted to see," Sister Margaret said, her gaze fixed on me. "Sister Mary reported you. Did you hurt Alissa again?"

"I did last time, but not today, I promise," I replied. "I've been... in the library."

Sister Margaret and Sister Mary exchanged confused glances, likely wondering whether to believe me. I didn’t blame them; I had been acting out since returning from my last foster home. The Austins were terrible people, unfit to care for children, let alone foster anyone.

I could feel Beatrix Sanderson’s eyes on me. I briefly met her gaze, and her blue eyes locked onto my amber ones, studying and analyzing me as if I were a piece of art in a gallery. She seemed uncertain, like she couldn’t decide whether to purchase the artwork or walk away.

“You’re quite the rebel, aren’t you?” she asked, her tone soft but definitive. “What’s your full name?”

“Um… Athena Marisol Carter, Ma’am,” I answered quietly.

“Athena.” She paused, testing the name before nodding. “A striking name. It suits you.”

I didn’t respond. I knew better than to smile or thank her. Compliments didn’t bring security. They didn’t mean a home. Many people had complimented me on my looks, but none of them had ever shown interest in adopting me, especially after learning who my biological father was. That was always the deal-breaker.

“She’s quite beautiful. Unusual complexion. Mixed heritage?” Beatrix asked, turning to Sister Margaret.

“Yes. Her mother was of European-Latina descent, her father…” Sister Margaret’s voice trailed off.

I understood why Sister Margaret stopped speaking before bringing up James; she probably didn't want Beatrix to lose interest in me. However, the woman didn't seem particularly concerned about who my father was.

“Fair skin, delicate features… and those eyes. They’re almost golden in the right light,” Beatrix continued, her attention returning to me.

“Yes, she’s a lovely young lady,” Sister Margaret agreed with a small smile.

"Tell me, Athena. Do you behave? Are you obedient?" Beatrix asked, her voice probing.

I lifted my gaze to meet her eyes. There was something cold and calculating in them, but I kept my expression neutral. If this sudden interest meant she was going to adopt me, I'd answer her questions without hesitation.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied.

"Good girl," she said, her tone satisfied. "I had my heart set on a younger child, but..." She paused, gesturing vaguely at the younger children with disinterest. "I suppose I could make an exception. I have a daughter who's your age. I'm sure she'd like to be your playmate."

I doubted that. If her so-called daughter was anything like her mother, she wouldn't want any part of this. Were the girl's feelings even considered before they decided to bring a stranger into their home?

"Probably not. The poor thing," I thought derisively, an internal snort escaping me.

Sister Margaret beamed, relieved that I was finally going to be out of her hair. But I felt a creeping unease in my spine. I didn’t like this one bit, but it seemed like I had no choice. If I wanted a better future, Mrs. Sanderson was my ticket.

"Mrs. Sanderson, Athena is an excellent choice. She’s hardworking, intelligent, and—" Sister Margaret started to say.

Beatrix raised a hand to silence her. "I’m not adopting her for her intelligence," Beatrix interjected sharply.

Sister Margaret's smile faltered but quickly recovered. I swallowed, sensing that whatever Beatrix's reasons were for choosing me, it had nothing to do with kindness.

"She has a refined look. She’ll do," Beatrix said, nodding with approval.