Chapter 72: Chapter Seventy One

Athena

The hallway pulsed with energy—echoes of laughter, slamming lockers, and the crisp scent of fresh textbooks clinging to the air. But I moved through it like a ghost, eyes cast downward, my shoulders weighed down by a sadness that clung stubbornly to me.

Leaning against a locker like she owned the place, Scarlett flashed a sly grin as I walked by.

“Well, well. Look who finally decided to show up. Back from Greece, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m back. What’s it to you?” I shot back, my voice sharper than intended. I did not slow down.

She tilted her head, eyes glinting as she trailed behind me. “You don’t look too thrilled. Don’t tell me Greece wasn’t everything you dreamed of?”

I didn’t respond. Just kept walking toward my locker. But Scarlett was relentless, sticking close like a shadow.

“Or maybe,” she said, her tone turning sharp, “it has something to do with Eros? You two seemed... cozy over the holidays.”

My throat tightened. My fingers fumbled with the locker dial. I swallowed hard. “It’s none of your business, Scarlett. Just leave me alone.”

She let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Touchy, aren’t we? Come on, don’t be like that. I thought we’d moved past the awkward tension. Besides... I figured you’d want to know.”

I turned slowly, wariness creeping into my expression. “Know what?”

Her grin widened, her voice practically dripping with satisfaction. She was enjoying this far too much. “Eros isn’t coming back this semester,” she said, savoring every word. “He’s gone.”

I went still. “What do you mean... gone?”

She shrugged like it was nothing. “Packed up. Disappeared. Rumor has it he’s somewhere overseas—America, Asia, who knows? No one’s heard a word from him. No one’s really sure. He didn’t even bother leaving a note, if that’s what you’re wondering. Or if you were hoping for one."

“He didn’t tell me...” The words barely made it past my lips.

Scarlett leaned in, her voice sugary and cruel.

“Heartbreaking, isn't it? One minute it’s sunsets and romance in Greece, the next—poof. He’s gone without a word. You must feel so... betrayed.” She exaggerated a pout. “Poor you.”

I blinked fast, fighting the burn behind my eyes. Then I slammed my locker shut and turned on her with a glare. “Why are you even telling me this?”

She shrugged, all faux innocence. “Thought you deserved some closure. Or maybe I just like watching you squirm. Either way—it’s a win for me.” She giggled.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and walked away, trying to keep my breathing steady. The hallway noise faded into a blur as my thoughts spiraled.

Outside, the courtyard offered little comfort. I sank onto the edge of a bench, the cold January wind slicing through my sweater.

“I can’t believe he just... left,” I whispered.

My phone buzzed. I looked down.

Nothing. No message from him.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I let the icy January wind bite through my sweater. Around me, students laughed and hurried by, their lives moving forward. 

The real world kept spinning, loud and alive. But mine had stopped.

\~~~~~

Two weeks later

The hushed murmurs drifted through the crack of Beatrix’s study door, just loud enough to pique my curiosity. I wasn’t one to eavesdrop—not on her, not in this house—but something about the sharpness in her tone made my feet root to the floor.

“…I told you, no one can ever find out,” Beatrix’s voice was edged with something I had never heard before—fear.

A man answered, his voice lower, colder. “You act like secrets stay buried forever, Beatrix. But you and I both know they don’t.”

My pulse spiked. Beatrix had secrets?

The man continued, his tone turning almost amused. “Tell me, does your dear Athena know the truth? That the great Beatrix Sanderson isn’t as righteous as she pretends to be? That she—”

A sharp clink of glass. A sharp inhale.

“Enough,” Beatrix hissed. “I did what I had to do. And if you breathe a word of it, I swear—”

Silence. Thick, suffocating silence.

My chest tightened. What the hell was she hiding?

I leaned in, barely a breath away from the door, when—

“Athena? What are you doing?"

My body turned to ice.

I whipped around—Serena stood at the end of the hallway, watching me with an unreadable expression on her face.

The voices inside stopped. The door creaked open wider.

Beatrix’s cold blue eyes met mine.

And I knew—I wasn’t supposed to hear that. But I didn’t care.

For a moment, no one spoke. Serena’s gaze flicked from me to the study door, then back again. She stepped forward, her heels silent against the carpet.

“I was just…” I began, but the words caught in my throat.

“Listening?” Beatrix’s voice cut like a blade, smooth and poised, but the slight tremor in her hand as she smoothed her blouse did not go unnoticed.

“I heard something,” I said quietly. “You sounded… afraid.”

Beatrix exhaled through her nose. “You misheard.”

“No,” I said firmly, stepping closer. “You said no one could ever find out. About what? What don’t you want me to know?”

Beatrix didn’t answer. The man who had been in the room—someone I hadn’t seen before—emerged behind her. Salt-and-pepper hair, sharp jaw, eyes that lingered on me a moment too long.

“I should go,” he said, brushing past me like I was nothing but a breeze.

I turned to Beatrix. “Tell me the truth.”

Serena shifted uneasily beside me. “Maybe this isn’t the time, Athena—”

“No,” I interrupted. “It’s past time.”

Beatrix’s expression hardened. “Fine. You want the truth? You’ll get it.”

She stepped back into her study, gesturing for me to follow. I entered slowly, my heart pounding. Serena lingered in the hallway, but the door shut behind me with a soft click.

“Sit,” Beatrix said, her voice colder now.

I didn’t. “Tell me about my mother.”

Her lips thinned. “Your mother, Hera, was a complicated woman. Naïve. Foolish.”

“And you were her friend,” I said, daring her to deny it.

“Yes,” she said after a pause. “I was. And I warned her. I begged her to end the affair before it was too late.”

I felt the floor tilt beneath me. “Affair…?”

“With Leonardo Belmonte. Eros’s father.”

I blinked, stunned. Even though I already knew about the affair, the revelation that Beatrix had known all along—and kept it to herself—hit harder than I expected.

“She did,” Beatrix snapped, voice sharp with emotion. “And when I found out, I told your father.”

My stomach dropped. “You what?” My voice cracked. “You told James Carter?”

“I thought he had a right to know,” she said, defensive. “I didn’t expect him to unravel like that.”

I stared at her, disbelief crashing over me like a tidal wave. “You knew what he was capable of. You told a violent man that his wife was unfaithful. You handed him a reason to snap.”

Beatrix’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t know he’d kill her.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “But you gave him a reason to. You gave him an excuse to murder her… and them.” My voice faltered. “You knew exactly what kind of man he was. And when he tried to kill me—”

My breath hitched. The image of Hera’s lifeless body flashed before me—blood seeping into the carpet, her eyes wide open and glassy. I hadn’t seen James pull the trigger, but I’d heard the shot. I’d seen the gaping hole in her forehead. My mind could easily fill in the rest.

“And Leonardo’s wife?” I whispered. “And their daughter?”

Beatrix turned away, her voice low. “Collateral.”

I recoiled, like she’d struck me. “Jesus.” My voice trembled. “I’ve been living with a monster. You’re no better than he was."

Her silence was damning.

“You told him Leonardo was my father, didn’t you?” I asked, though the answer was already sinking in. “Even if it wasn’t true.”

She turned to face me—cold, resigned. “He suspected. I didn’t correct him.”

Rage rose in my chest like fire. “So he tried to kill me too. Because of you.”

Beatrix stepped forward, the cold mask on her face finally cracking. “I did what I had to do to protect you. I took you in. I gave you a name. A life.”

“No,” I said softly, shaking my head. “You took me in to protect yourself. Your image. Your precious reputation. You didn’t do it out of love—you did it out of guilt. You fed me lies and called it protection.”

Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

“You would’ve been dead if I hadn’t taken you from that place!” she snapped.

I moved toward the door. “Maybe I’d rather be dead than live in the shadow of your secrets.”

Her voice chased me. “You’re just like your mother—always chasing answers, even when the truth destroys you.”

I paused at the door, hand on the knob.

“Maybe,” I said quietly. “But at least I won’t be like you—hiding behind them.”

I walked out.

Serena stood to the side, her expression unreadable, but she didn’t say a word as I passed. She didn’t have to.

I was done here.

I knew then—I couldn’t live in this house another day. I would rather sleep under a bridge or in some damp subway tunnel than remain under Beatrix’s roof. This place, these walls, were built on secrets, and I couldn't breathe inside them anymore.

And in that moment, I realized something else—something worse. I needed someone. I needed someone to hold me, to tell me I wasn’t losing my mind. But the only person I ever thought would be my anchor… had already let go.

Well. Let them all go.

I didn’t need him. I didn’t need any of them.