Athena’s POV
Months blur when you’re hiding.
Some mornings I wake up thinking it’s still the same week I left. Then I hear the wind hitting the shutters a little different, or I see a new c***k in the kitchen wall, and I remember—time doesn’t stop just because I want it to.
I didn’t count the days. Counting would’ve made me think of him.
And I can’t.
Not when every thought of Raphael feels like letting a hand press down on my throat.
I gave birth alone, except for Mara.
The floor was cold even through the blankets. My knees ached from kneeling so long. My hair kept falling in my face and sticking there, damp with sweat. Mara kept telling me to breathe slow, but my lungs didn’t care. They wanted to heave, to scream. I bit down hard instead. Split my lip. Tasted blood.
He came just b
