Athena ran with everything left in her body until her vision swayed and darkness swallowed her whole. The last thing she remembered was Adriel shouting her name.
When she opened her eyes again, her head throbbed. Bright white light burned her sight, and the air smelled like antiseptic. Confusion rushed through her as she tried to sit up, only then noticing a needle attached to her arm. Panic shot through her chest. She grabbed the IV line, ready to tear it out.
A gentle hand stopped her.
"Don't pull that," a woman murmured.
Athena jerked back. A middle-aged nurse stood beside her, calm eyes watching her panic.
"You're awake," she whispered softly.
"Let go of me!" Athena snapped, voice cracking. "Where is this place?"
"You're in Yates International Hospital," the woman said.
Everything inside Athena froze—the name felt like danger.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
"My name is Penny."
Athena's gaze dropped again to the foreign object attached to her hand. She grabbed at the needle, trying to yank it out, but Penny caught her wrist.
"Don't. You'll injure yourself."
"I don't care! Let me go."
Penny didn't argue. Instead, she reached into her pocket and withdrew something small. Something that shimmered.
A bracelet.
Not just any bracelet—Athena knew that metal curve the way someone recognized their pulse.
"I found this in your pocket," Penny said quietly. "I wondered who it belonged to."
Athena's heart clawed against her chest.
"Give it to me," she whispered.
But Penny hesitated, fingers curling around it.
"I can't. Not yet. You need to meet someone first."
"I am not meeting anybody!"
Athena stumbled off the bed and rushed for the door. As soon as she reached it, it slammed shut. A metallic click locked her inside.
"No! Open the door!" she screamed, banging her fists against the wood. "Let me out!"
Penny didn't respond. She stepped away, pulled out her phone, and dialed a number.
"She's still here," she said quietly. "And yes—the bracelet is exactly the one."
A faint silence, then a woman's voice through the phone:
"Don't let her leave. I'll be there soon."
Athena backed away from the door, chest collapsing in tight breaths. She hugged her bag close, every memory flashing too painfully—gunshots, running, losing everything.
Minutes later, the door opened again.
A woman stepped inside—a woman whose presence carried grief so heavy it dimmed the air.
She studied Athena carefully, eyes trembling with recognition.
"You… look exactly like Rowena," she whispered.
Athena didn't respond.
"Who are you?" she demanded instead.
The woman swallowed.
"My name is Imelda. I am your grandmother."
Athena laughed—a broken sound.
"You can't be serious."
"I gave your mother that bracelet," Imelda whispered. "The company made only five pieces. I bought two. One for myself… one for her."
Athena's voice shook with fury.
"And where were you when they shot my father? When they took my mother? When my brother left?"
Imelda flinched, tears spilling.
"I wanted to fix it… years ago. But I didn't. And that is my failure."
"Well," Athena said coldly, "you lived without us for sixteen years. And I lived without you. So congratulations—we're even."
She reached for her bag and stood, already moving toward the exit.
Penny finally handed the bracelet back. Cold metal touched her skin—warm with memory.
Imelda's voice cracked behind her.
"How do I fix this?"
Athena didn't turn.
"You can't."
She walked out the room, her footsteps loud against the hospital floor—each one burning away what little family she thought she had.
Behind her, she didn't hear Imelda fall apart quietly, whispering:
"I truly am the worst grandmother alive."
Penny placed a hand on Imelda's shoulder.
"It's not too late," she whispered.
But Imelda only shook her head.
"She grew up without me. And now she has to carry that pain alone."
And for the first time in years, Imelda cried—not for what she lost…
…but for what she never tried to keep.