Page 44

Dear Saint,

I brought up Nyx in group therapy. There was a question posed about if we had lost anyone close to us, and she was the first person I thought of.

It was refreshing to talk about her. I didn’t focus on her death. I told stories about how we met through Olympus, how my brother introduced me when I first got into fighting. Truthfully, that’s a story for another day. I don’t think I’ve told anyone that.

But Nyx was always a bright light. You said it, too. She was the stars, and the darkness made her shine bright. It was really true. I loved her, and talking about how she held herself, her morals, really made me miss her.

And then, in equal measure, there’s you.

The thought of her will never go away, but I’m glad she’s not between us anymore.

For once, I feel peace.

All my love,

Artemis

“Artemis.” Dr. Hawthorne approaches me at a fast clip.

Oh, shit. I got caught? I made sure to leave Lyssa’s room exactly as I found it. After I registered her name, I spent the next ten minutes hunting through every item in the room. I tried to connect it back to Gabriel or Kade.

I remember Lyssa.

She was the dark secret we kept after I rescued them. Her and Gabriel.

They were put in the lower level of Terror, where heroin and opiates keep them complacent. It was out of Antonio’s hands at that point, and I spent months bribing the woman who administered the drugs to help me get them out.

She gave Lyssa too much, and Lyssa never woke up. Much to Gabriel’s distress. But once he moved her out of the long-term care unit Apollo was helping me pay for… well, I assumed she died.

Gabriel vanished after that anyway. It made sense to me that he would want to be far, far away from Sterling Falls.

It didn’t occur to me that he would hold such a grudge against me .

“Dr. Hawthorne.” I shift my weight and contemplate an immediate confession. It would probably be easier, right?

Do I also tell her that I know her?

Well, know of her?

I certainly know her brother and boyfriend. Benefactor. Whatever we want to classify Gabriel as.

“You’re listed as an emergency contact for Saint Hart.” She grips both my shoulders. “Did you know that?”

I pause.

Try to figure out why she’s asking me that.

“Artemis?”

“Y-yes,” I say.

He did it in a fit of anger a few months ago. Just one of those stupid slip-ups that required stitches, but I freaked out on him that no one had told me.

That was when I was still very much on Keep Saint Alive duty.

“Someone told them where to reach you.”

“Who?”

“The hospital,” she says slowly. “The hospital has been trying to reach you, through us, about Saint Hart.”

My lungs stop. “Is he okay?” I force out.

“He’s alive,” she assures me. “But that’s all they’d say. He’s at the Sterling Falls hospital. If you want to go, I can travel with you.”

“I—yes,” I blurt out. “Of course I need to go. Right now?”

She nods.

“Okay. Okay.” I slip out of her hold and rush back to my room. By the time she reaches me, I’ve got on my red coat and a black winter cap.

“Ready.”

She nods once, all business. There’s no sympathy there, and I’m okay with that. I’d crack with sympathy. She puts a hand on the small of my back, guiding me out to the waiting golf cart. The path is plowed, and wind whips at us on the way to the small dock.

A speedboat waits, one of the workers already aboard.

I scramble on and take the offered life jacket. It fits over my coat, and I stuff my hands between my legs to keep them warm. Worry bleeds through me, enough to make me forget the fact that I’m leaving the Isle of Paradise for the first time.

What the hell happened, Saint?