Page 25 of Gilded Goddess

My Sweet Girl

“Mom,” I whisper.

It’s the same perfect cursive she scrawled on every note in my lunch box. I still have almost all of her letters that tell me I’m beautiful and strong. Those notes still get me through some of the worst days.

I feel something small and thick inside. So I slide my finger beneath the seal. A flash drive falls out of the envelope with a handwritten letter.

“What was her dying wish?” I ask Athena.

“That you know who you are.”

Everyone in the room watches me with curiosity. My eyes flick from Athena to Apollo as she perches on the arm of the couch beside him.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Athena gives me a sweet smile. “Read the letter, sweetheart. Then we’ll explain everything.”

Apollo sips from the glass, eyes on me. Atlas also holds my gaze, and for the first time, he doesn’t have his sketchbook on his lap. No sign of the charcoal pencil he usually tucks behind his ear.

I lift the flash drive, confused about why my mother would leave this behind. She hated computers. When Dad bought her a laptop three years ago for Christmas, she couldn’t even figure out how to turn it on.

I taught her how to use a cell phone when I was eight. Mom was lucky she could send text messages without them going to the wrong person. Technology was not her thing.

My hand won’t stop shaking, so Ares slips his fingers between mine. “You hate us now,” he says in a hushed tone. “But we’re the only family you’ve got. And we’re here for you, Ophelia.”

I stare into his eyes for some sign of malice and only see love written all over his handsome face. Ares isn’t the same man with me that he is with everyone else. When we’re alone, he opens up to me. He tells me his secrets, his desires, all of his fears.

That’s why I can lower my guard with him, even though I hope my gut feeling isn’t wrong. I want to trust him, but I have been burned too many times in the past.

“I’m scared,” I whisper.

Ares moves our joined hands to his thigh and kisses my cheek. “I know this is hard. If I were holding a letter from my dad, I’d feel the same way. So, whenever you’re ready. Open it. We’ll still be here when you do.”

I glance at his brothers, then Athena. It sounds strange to call them my family. Our parents weren’t married very long before everything fell apart. One week after their wedding, Dad caught me having sex with my stepbrothers. Then he disowned me as if I were nothing to him. Like losing his only daughter was insignificant.

“What if everything changes after this?” I ask Ares.

“It will,” he says without a trace of doubt on his face. “Your life will never be the same.”

I set the flash drive on the coffee table and open the letter. The pink paper was her favorite stationery. My mom loved personalizing her stamps, notepads, and letters.

The top of the page saysFrom the Mind of Cora Drakoswith a hand-drawn heart through the middle of the page. Bringing the letter to my nose, I breathe in her scent and cry. I don’t care that everyone is watching me. These are the last words my mother wrote me, and I want to savor every second.

Ares’s hand is still on my thigh. I look down at his inked fingers, then over at him. Just knowing he’s beside me calms down my rapid heartbeat. He shouldn’t make me feel this way, but he does.

“No matter what the letter says,” he says softly. “I’m here for you.”

“Ares,” I mutter. “You’re not allowed to care after what you did. You don’t get to bemyperson.”

“Well, Iamyour person. So deal with it, little dragon.” He shakes his head, a dark strand of hair dropping onto his tanned forehead. “If you want to make me your punching bag, I don’t care. Hit me all you want. Scream at me. Tell me how much you hate me. Just promise not to leave me ever again.”

My heart drops into my stomach harder than an anchor hitting the ocean floor. Is he afraid of losing me? Ares should have thought about that before he conspired with his family to kill my father. To destroy his legacy and take what is mine.

I think that, but don’t say it. Instead, I read the letter my mother wrote me. With shaky hands, I hold the paper and blink away the tears. I’m crying so much it’s hard to read her perfect handwriting. She made this little swoop with her C’s, S’s, and W’s. I tried to emulate it when I was younger, but it looked like chicken scratch.

To my sweet girl,

If you’re readingthis letter, I’m no longer here with you. But a piece of me is always with you in spirit. In your heart and memories. Whenever you feel lost, just know I’m not far away.

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