Blood Bound

Chapter 2: A New Beginning

Chapter Two:

A New Beginning

Athena didn't sleep that night.

She lay on the back seat of her aunt's car with a blanket wrapped around her, staring through the window as the streets passed by.

Everything outside looked unfamiliar.

The buildings.

The roads.

Even the streetlights seemed different.

She kept thinking about home.

Her home.

The house with the little flower pot beside the door.

The couch where she watched television with her parents.

The kitchen where her mother cooked.

The promise her father had made.

Of course.

Promise.

Athena pulled the blanket closer.

She didn't understand why everyone kept telling her things were going to be okay.

How could they be okay?

Her parents were dead.

That was what everyone had said.

But somehow, the words still didn't feel real.

She closed her eyes.

For a moment, she imagined her father's voice.

"You have homework."

She almost smiled.

Then she remembered.

Her eyes opened again.

She turned toward the window.

"Auntie?"

Her aunt glanced at her through the mirror.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Are we going back?"

Her aunt's hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

"Back where?"

Athena frowned.

"Home."

There was a pause.

Her aunt looked at the road.

"We're going to my house."

"But I want to go home."

"I know."

"I left my things there."

Her aunt swallowed.

"We'll get you new things."

Athena didn't answer.

She didn't want new things.

She wanted her room.

She wanted her school bag.

She wanted the little drawing she'd made for her mother sitting on the refrigerator.

Most of all, she wanted her parents.

She turned back toward the window.

After a few minutes, she whispered,

"Do I have to stay with you forever?"

Her aunt glanced at her again.

"Only if you want to."

Athena looked confused.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Then... when can I go home?"

Her aunt didn't answer immediately.

The silence was enough.

Athena looked down at the blanket.

"Oh."

Her aunt reached one hand back and gently touched Athena's knee.

"You don't have to decide anything tonight."

Athena nodded.

She didn't say anything else.

Her aunt's house was smaller than the one Athena had grown up in.

There was a little garden in front, a narrow walkway leading to the door, and two windows facing the street.

Athena stood outside for a moment after they arrived.

Her aunt unlocked the door.

"Come on."

Athena didn't move.

Her aunt looked back.

"What is it?"

"Is this where I live now?"

Her aunt's expression softened.

"If you want it to be."

Athena looked at the house again.

It didn't look like home.

But she followed her inside.

The hallway smelled faintly of lavender.

There were a few pictures on the walls, most of them of Athena's aunt when she was younger. Athena had seen some of the pictures before, but never really paid attention to them.

Her aunt carried Athena's small bag upstairs.

"Your room is here."

She opened the door.

Athena stood in the doorway.

The room wasn't very big, but it was clean.

There was a bed near the window, a small wooden desk, and a bookshelf with several books already arranged on it.

On the bed sat a stuffed rabbit.

Athena stared at it.

Her aunt smiled.

"I thought you might like that."

"I don't."

Her aunt raised an eyebrow.

"You haven't even touched it."

"I don't like rabbits."

"You used to."

"I don't anymore."

"Okay."

Her aunt walked away.

Athena watched her go.

Then she looked at the rabbit again.

It had long floppy ears and a tiny pink nose.

She walked over and picked it up.

She squeezed it once.

Then she quickly put it back on the bed.

Her aunt appeared at the doorway.

Athena froze.

Her aunt smiled.

"I didn't see anything."

"I wasn't doing anything."

"Of course not."

Athena narrowed her eyes.

Her aunt laughed softly.

"Come downstairs when you're ready."

When she left, Athena looked at the rabbit.

"Don't get excited," she whispered.

She picked it up again.

This time, she didn't put it down.

The first few days were strange.

Athena didn't ask for much.

She didn't complain about the food.

She didn't ask to watch television.

She barely spoke.

Her aunt tried.

She would ask questions at breakfast.

"Do you want eggs?"

Athena would shrug.

"Toast?"

Another shrug.

"Both?"

A small nod.

Sometimes her aunt would tell a joke.

Athena wouldn't laugh.

Sometimes she would sit beside Athena while she watched television, but neither of them would say anything.

Her aunt didn't force her.

She seemed to understand that Athena didn't need more questions.

She just needed someone to stay.

One afternoon, Athena came downstairs and found her aunt in the kitchen.

"What are you making?"

Her aunt turned around.

"Rice."

Athena looked into the pot.

"With chicken?"

"Yes."

Athena nodded.

Then she started walking away.

"That's all?"

Athena turned.

"What?"

"You don't want to complain about something?"

Athena frowned.

"I don't complain."

Her aunt smiled.

"Your father used to say you could eat an entire kitchen and still ask what was for dessert."

Athena stopped.

For a second, she didn't say anything.

Then she smiled.

Just a little.

"My dad said that?"

"All the time."

"He was lying."

"Was he?"

"Yes."

Her aunt laughed.

Athena's smile grew.

Then it disappeared just as quickly.

She looked down.

"I miss him."

Her aunt's smile faded.

"I know."

"I miss Mom too."

"I know."

Athena picked at the edge of her shirt.

Her aunt didn't tell her everything would be okay.

She simply walked over and pulled Athena into a hug.

Athena let her.

That night, Athena couldn't find the stuffed rabbit.

She searched under her bed.

Nothing.

She looked beside the desk.

Nothing.

Then she saw it on the floor near the door.

She picked it up.

"You fell."

She stared at the rabbit for a moment.

Then she climbed into bed and placed it beside her pillow.

She didn't know why she felt better with it there.

Maybe because it was something that belonged to this new room.

Something that didn't remind her of the house she had lost.

She turned off the lamp.

"Goodnight."

She paused.

Then, feeling slightly embarrassed even though nobody was there to hear her, she added,

"Don't tell anyone I like you."

Days became weeks.

Weeks became months.

Athena slowly learned the rhythm of her new life.

Her aunt woke her up for school.

Athena complained about getting out of bed.

Her aunt made breakfast.

Athena complained about that too, especially when she didn't like what was on her plate.

She started leaving her books all over the living room.

Her aunt started putting them back.

Athena would come home and find them neatly stacked on her desk.

She would move them again the next morning.

It became their little routine.

She didn't notice when the house stopped feeling strange.

She didn't notice when she stopped asking when they were going back.

She didn't notice when she started calling her aunt's house home in her head.

It happened slowly.

So slowly that she only realized it one rainy afternoon when she came through the front door, dropped her school bag beside the stairs, and shouted,

"I'm home!"

Her aunt called from the kitchen.

"Wash your hands first!"

Athena smiled.

"Okay!"

She stopped halfway up the stairs.

For a second, she remembered the other house.

Her mother's voice.

Her father's laugh.

The memory still hurt.

But she kept walking.

Years passed.

Athena grew taller.

The stuffed rabbit stayed on her bed.

Its fur became slightly worn from being carried around too much, but she never threw it away.

By the time Athena was twelve, she had stopped being the quiet little girl who barely spoke.

She still had moments when she became quiet.

Especially when someone mentioned her parents.

But she had friends at school.

She laughed more.

She argued with her aunt.

She complained about homework.

She even learned how to cook a few things, although her aunt refused to let her near the stove whenever she was distracted.

Life had become normal.

Or at least, something close to normal.

But there was one question Athena had never stopped thinking about.

Why?

Why had her parents died?

She knew what people told her.

They were murdered.

But that wasn't enough.

People didn't just walk into someone's house and kill them for no reason.

At least, that's what Athena believed.

One afternoon, she found her aunt in the kitchen sorting through some old things.

Athena leaned against the doorway.

"Auntie?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Her aunt looked up.

"Of course."

Athena hesitated.

Her aunt noticed.

"What?"

"Did Mom and Dad have enemies?"

The room went still.

Her aunt's fingers stopped moving.

It lasted only a second.

But Athena noticed.

Her aunt looked down at the box in front of her.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because they were killed."

Her aunt took a slow breath.

"That doesn't mean they had enemies."

"Then why were they killed?"

"Athena..."

"You always say you don't know."

"Because I don't."

"That's not true."

Her aunt looked at her.

Athena immediately regretted saying it.

But she didn't take it back.

"You knew something that night," Athena continued quietly.

Her aunt's expression changed.

"What makes you think that?"

"You didn't look surprised when I asked why they died."

Her aunt looked away.

Athena stepped farther into the kitchen.

"Did they do something?"

"No."

"Did someone hate them?"

"No."

"Then why?"

Her aunt closed the box.

"Some things are difficult to explain."

Athena frowned.

"That's not an answer."

"I know."

"Then give me the real one."

Her aunt looked at her for a long moment.

There was something in her eyes Athena couldn't understand.

Fear, maybe.

Or worry.

But whatever it was, her aunt quickly hid it.

"You were eight," she said quietly. "You were a child."

"I'm eighteen now."

"I know."

"Then stop treating me like I'm eight."

Her aunt's expression softened.

"I'm not trying to."

"Then tell me."

Silence.

Athena waited.

Her aunt didn't speak.

Eventually, Athena looked away.

"Fine."

She walked toward the doorway.

"Athena."

She stopped.

Her aunt's voice was quieter now.

"I loved your parents."

Athena turned around.

"I know."

"And they loved you more than anything."

Athena swallowed.

"Then why won't you tell me what happened?"

Her aunt looked down.

"Because sometimes knowing the truth doesn't make losing someone hurt less."

Athena stared at her.

It wasn't the answer she wanted.

But she knew she wasn't going to get anything else.

She walked upstairs.

For the first time in years, the question returned with a force she hadn't expected.

What were her parents hiding?

By the time Athena turned sixteen, she had learned not to ask her aunt about the past too often.

Not because she had stopped caring.

She hadn't.

She had simply learned that her aunt had a way of ending every conversation without actually answering anything.

One afternoon, Athena was helping clean the house when she found an old box hidden inside the back of a closet.

She pulled it out.

There were photographs inside.

Some were of her aunt.

Others were of her parents.

Athena sat on the floor.

She picked up one photograph.

Her mother was smiling.

Her father stood beside her, one arm around her shoulder.

Athena smiled without realizing it.

She remembered that day.

She had been there.

She remembered complaining because her father wouldn't let her hold the camera.

She remembered her mother laughing.

The memory made her chest ache.

Athena placed the photograph back inside the box.

Then she noticed something.

There was another photograph underneath it.

She reached for it.

Before she could pull it out completely, her aunt's voice came from behind her.

"Athena."

She turned.

Her aunt stood in the doorway.

Neither of them spoke.

Her aunt looked at the box.

Then at Athena.

"Put it back."

Athena slowly lowered the photograph.

"Why?"

"Because it's private."

"It's about my parents."

"I know."

"Then why can't I see it?"

Her aunt walked toward her.

"Because you're not ready."

Athena frowned.

"You've been saying that for years."

Her aunt didn't answer.

Athena looked at the photograph again.

There was something about the way her aunt was reacting that made her more curious than before.

But she put it back.

For now.

Two years later, Athena stood in front of her bedroom mirror, trying to decide whether her hair looked better tied up or left loose.

She checked the time.

"Great."

She was going to be late.

She grabbed her bag and rushed downstairs.

Her aunt was already in the kitchen.

"You'll miss the bus."

"I know."

"Breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You said that yesterday."

"And I survived."

Her aunt gave her a look.

Athena smiled.

"Fine."

She grabbed a piece of toast.

As she reached the door, she noticed something sitting on the small table.

A photograph.

She stopped.

Her parents.

The same photograph she had seen years ago.

Athena picked it up.

She ran her thumb over the edge.

Ten years.

It had been ten years since she had lost them.

Ten years of wondering.

Ten years of questions.

And somehow, she still had almost no answers.

"Athena?"

She looked up.

Her aunt was watching her.

"Are you okay?"

Athena looked at the photograph.

Then back at her aunt.

"Yeah."

She placed it down.

"I'm fine."

She opened the door.

The morning air rushed inside.

Athena stepped outside.

She didn't know it yet, but the life she had spent years building was about to change.

Because the questions she had been carrying since she was eight were no longer staying in the past.

They were getting closer.

And somewhere far from Athena's ordinary world, someone had already begun searching for her.