XENIA
After about an hour of contemplation, I finally made a decision; I would go visit Hades.
I tried to call him a few more times before I headed there, but I was met with his voicemail message like every other time. That made me feel several jabs of guilt as I maneuvered the Uber app to book a ride to his place.
When my ride finally arrived, all I could think about was whether his reaction to seeing me would be more unpleasant than the last encounter we had. I sincerely hoped that he’d started to feel better because if he was doing worse, I’d haul myself through the gates of hell for hurting one of the best people I ever met so badly.
“We’re here, miss,” the Uber driver announced as the car came to a halt outside Hades’ house.
The unfamiliar dread that filled my guts as I looked at
