Powerful | REWRITE

꓄ꃅꋪꍟꍟ ꂦ꒒ꀸ ꒒ꍏꀸꀤꍟꌗ ꓄ꋪꀤꍟꌗ ꓄ꂦ ꀘꈤꀤ꓄ ꓄ꃅꍟ ꌗꂦꉓꀘꌗ ꂦꎇ ꀸꍟꍏ꓄ꃅ

"Sir, she saw her. . . ."

"Her imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince her of that."

"Sir, I ... I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall — "

I didn’t even know what happened first—if I chucked the mythology book across the room or just dropped it like a total spaz. All I knew was that I was angry. Like, steam-coming-out-of-my-ears angry.

"I’d be pissed too," Apollo said, though he didn’t voice the thought that crossed his mind—that Percy looked cute when she was angry.

Zeus, with a mischievous grin, glanced at Poseidon. "If anyone, I would’ve thought she was actually born from you."

Poseidon shot him a sharp glare.

So yeah. The thing at the museum? It happened. It actually happened. And now everyone’s acting like I imagined it? Like I had a “moment” or something? Are you kidding me

They all exchanged happy glances.

"Now she knows she can't trust them," Hera said coldly.

"Here's the thing," Hades began. "They assumed she wouldn't piece it together because of her ADHD. But she did—and now they're scrambling."

"They better do nothing if they know what's good for them," Poseidon muttered, his voice laced with anger.

If someone up there wants me to stay alive, they better start handing out instructions, because right now I’m winging it—and spoiler alert—I almost died. No warning, no heads-up. Just... boom. Monster.

Hades nodded in agreement with Percy’s words. "They could’ve at least told her something. It’s like they’re setting her up to fail… like they want her to die."

The others murmured their agreement, a grim silence settling over the room.

And Grover? Thanks a lot, man. Real nice job keeping it together. You're the world's worst undercover whatever-you-are. Brunner? Don't even get me started. With your wheelie chair and wise-guy act. Ugly traitor vibes. Majorly.

Poseidon shook his head with a soft smile—one only Rhea noticed, as his mother. “I love her,” he muttered, his expression softened with what could only be described as heart eyes.

“They’re traitors, honestly,” Apollo said, crossing his arms. “Like, why the hell would you decide, ‘Oh, let’s just leave her in the dark,’ when you’re the ones being ignorant?”

Mr. Brunner went silent.

"I don't care what happens to them, but they better protect my daughter all the way until the summer solstice next fall. Grover can fail all he wants, but he better not take my daughter down with him," Poseidon said firmly.

Many deities nodded in agreement.

I did a grown up thing, which is picking up the book and back down the hall.

A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archer's bow. But I didn't care.

Loki’s eyes widened. “Oh... she’s in her I don’t care era, I see?”

Buddha gave him a flat look. “Because she said it once? Be serious.”