Chapter 3

3

When Persephone woke up, she remembered the drink—the red liquid, shining jewel-like in the glass. She startled awake, her heartbeat racing like a terrified rabbit’s.

But she wasn’t in the backseat of a car. She sat up and looked around, head swinging back and forth, her messy hair falling about her face.

She was in a hotel room. A really, really fancy hotel room, judging from what she could make out by the light of the single dim lamp.

Was she still dreaming? She scrubbed groggily at her eyes, and slowly, she started to remember the night before. Paul, the club, her so-called friends, the man who’d bought her the drink. The backseat of the car. Wet pavement as she ran away, down the street until she found the basement stairs, and the door, and everything that lay behind it.

That part seemed like a dream, and she would deny it happened, except she was lying between the smooth sheets and the velvety soft pillow of a five-star hotel bed.

And she was still in her dress from last night.

She blew out a sigh of relief.

Good gods, what had she gotten herself into?

Well, you can’t stay here in bed all day. Time to go face the mess that is your life.

“But I don’t wanna,” she groaned and coughed. Gods, her throat was dry.

As she got up, she noticed a glass of water on the bedside table. She almost reached for it but stopped at the last moment. She was done accepting drinks from strangers, no matter that her throat felt drier than the Mojave Desert. She yawned and stuck her tongue out as she stretched.

Ugh, her muscles ached like she’d been run over by a truck. And her head hurt. A lot. She groaned as she stumbled out of bed. She headed toward the bathroom adjacent to the room, clawing back the tangled fall of her wheat-colored hair.

How long had she slept? She’d have to look for a clock when she went back to the bedroom. The cool marble of the bathroom stung her tender feet. Squinting over the two sinks—both made out of a striking black marble—she saw the color had returned to her cheeks. She must have slept for a long time.

She yanked hard on the knobs on the bathroom sink so the water blasted and cupped her hands underneath it, and then she drank swallow after swallow.

She washed her face afterward. The cool water washed her clammy skin clean and by the time she was finished and toweled off her face, she felt marginally better.

Especially when she saw a new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste arranged beside the sink.

“Thank the Fates,” she moaned and grabbed both. She brushed long and hard, not caring if she was taking off the topcoat of enamel, she was so determined to wash last night off of her. Especially when she remembered Paul trying to kiss her. Shudder.

A shower was up next.

She felt slightly more human after she finished and stepped out. The headache was dissipating with the more water she drank.

As she toweled off her hair and walked back into the bedroom, she found that someone had left a shopping bag on a chair near the door of the hotel room. The skirt and top she found inside were her size. Along with some underthings. She paused, not sure how to feel about that. Was it considerate, or creepy? Probably considerate seeing as the only other clothing she had was the little black dress she’d gotten at a thrift store for ten dollars. And it wasn’t like she wanted to put dirty underwear back on after her shower.

Was it the man from last night who’d bought her these things?

Duh, who else? But he’d probably had his secretary get them or something.

Would she ever see him again? Or had he taken pity on her, arranged for her to sleep it off in this nice hotel room, and gotten her clothes so she wouldn’t have to do the walk of shame? And that was that, he’d done his good Samaritan act for the year?

She dressed quickly, feeling embarrassed for having taken so long to get out of the hotel. She was probably overstaying her welcome. What was check-out time? Jeez, she didn’t want them to charge the guy extra because she’d washed her hair twice. The shampoo had smelled so good. And why wasn’t there a dang clock in this room? She hadn’t bothered pulling back the heavy drapes to see how high the sun was in the sky because she’d been naked and changing and now she was leaving so she didn’t bother.

She quickly folded her old clothes before cracking open the bedroom door.

“Oh!” she squeaked in surprise. She’d been expecting the hallway of a hotel but instead, she was met with an even larger room.

She was in a hotel suite. A really, really expensive hotel suite by the looks of it. With as big as the room was… was this the penthouse? Holy crap.

The long wall of windows was dark—there weren’t any city lights visible, so Persephone assumed it was the kind of glass that could be turned dark on command—and there were no lights on in the living room. What time was it? She ventured forward, wondering if she should call out hello or go knock on some of the other doors in the suite.

“How did you sleep?” a voice snaked from the darkness.

“Oh!” Persephone squeaked again, hand clutching her chest.

There, in an armchair in the sitting area down by the bar, was Hades Ubeli.

“Fine,” she said, smiling timidly. “I slept fine.”

She moved down toward him, still looking around. The room stretched out in shadow. The penthouse must take up one whole side of the building, she realized. There was a kitchen and bar, sunken areas for lounging, TVs and, in one corner, a baby grand piano. Everything was in grey or black, with touches of cream.

“Do you like the place?” Hades Ubeli stood with his hands in his pockets, the shadows grey on his face and under his eyes as he watched her.

Right. She was probably staring like a country bumpkin. “It’s nice,” she said and inwardly cringed. Nice? “I mean, it’s really fancy.” Gods, fancy was worse than nice. “Elegant, I mean. Really elegantly decorated.”

Shoot her now.

To get into the lowered seating area, she passed a statue, a contorted figure in white marble.

“That one’s mine,” he commented, and she paused politely to stare at it. “The hotel lets me furnish this place to my tastes.”

The statue was of a woman, a body and thin cloth all finely sculpted. It looked Greek, and well done, but the figure’s face unsettled her—a sweet youth’s features twisted as if in some horror or fear. She moved on, descending into the sunken area where her host stood.

“So you live here?” Persephone asked.

Hades Ubeli chuckled. “No, I keep it in case I want to get away.”

Of course he did. Drawing in her breath, she nodded as if this was normal. But holy crap, what must a place like this cost? And he kept it as what, a place to crash when he was up late in this part of the city?

Or a place to bring women. Her cheeks heated at the thought.

“Would you like a drink?” He approached, and she shrank away from his tall, dark figure, suddenly imposing. But he only turned and went up the steps to the bar.

“No, thank you.” She shook her head, still feeling a little sluggish. At the bar, glass clinked and then he was back. “How long did I sleep?”

Again, a small chuckle. It wasn’t unkind, but it made her feel like she missed the joke. “I just watched the sunset.”

“What?” She was horrified. “No way.” She went to the window. “Can you turn these clear?”

“Of course.” He reached for a remote control and with the tap of a button, the dark windows became transparent. Persephone gasped as the view became bright with rows of light that outlined skyscrapers, artificial and multicolored against a black velvet sky. She really had slept for an entire day.

“Oh, no,” she said, lifting a hand to her forehead and feeling completely disoriented. She turned back to her host, who was now standing, his figure cut half through with black, half in grey.

“Forgive me,” he said, and she was startled again. He didn’t look like a man who would apologize. “I let you sleep as long as you could.”

Shadow shrouded his face; she couldn’t make out any expression beyond what was in his voice. “I made sure you were okay. Someone stayed here, in case you woke. But when I returned you were still asleep.” His voice dropped and became softer. “I figured you needed it.”

“It’s okay,” Persephone said, although she felt weak. “I mean, thank you.” She’d slept a whole day! And someone had stayed with her—she wondered who, and hoped it wasn’t the muscular bouncer she had seen in the club. She had so many questions—who was this man? Why was he being so nice?—but she bit them back, feeling his dark gaze on her.

“You hungry?”

She shook her head sharply, remembering the pitch of her stomach during the chase. The memory didn’t seem a day old.

Too late, she thought of her manners. This obviously wealthy man had taken time out of his day to check in on her when she was sure he had a million more important things to be doing.

“I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your hair. And I really should be getting home.”

She didn’t even cringe as she said it. Well, not too much. But whatever her problems were, she was done foisting them on this man.

He tilted his head sideways, examining her in a way that made her mouth go dry again. “Last night you said you didn’t have a home.”

Persephone felt her eyes go wide. “Oh.” Shoot her now. She knew she talked sometimes in her sleep. She tried to laugh it off. “Well, I was working as a live-in nanny.”

“And?”

Persephone opened her mouth and a helpless little noise came out. How could she even begin to— And it wasn’t like it was his problem?—

But Hades Ubeli arched a dark eyebrow in a way that demanded the truth.

“Well, I sort of quit.”

“Sort of quit? Either you did or you didn’t.”

She let out a breath in a rush of air. “I did quit. But I still need to go back and get my last paycheck and all my stuff.”

She couldn’t help her frown thinking about what sort of scene that might be. But all the money she’d made in the last six weeks was there, and her backpack full of clothes and the few other things she’d brought from Kansas?—

“I’ll have your things picked up. You can stay here until you’re back on your feet again.”

“What?” Persephone’s back went stiff. “No!”

Dang it, she was being rude again when this man had only been kind to her. “No, I mean, thank you. That’s very nice. But I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’ll go by and pick up my things and go to my friend’s house.”

He didn’t have to know she was speaking about a hypothetical friend. Especially since her phone was gone. That creep from last night had kept it after he’d picked it up and she hadn’t memorized Europa or Helena’s numbers.

But the Donahues paid well. She’d have almost fifteen hundred dollars altogether once they paid the half of this month’s paycheck she was owed. Maybe she’d catch a bus and find somewhere cheaper to live. The big city was the best place to hide from her mother, but it was too expensive.

“Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out,” he said. “I’ll have my driver drop you wherever you want to go.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and touched a button. “Charon. Yes. Bring the car around. You’ll be escorting Miss…” Hades’s eyes came Persephone’s way.

“Vestian. Persephone Vestian.”

“…Miss Vestian wherever she’d like to go.”

He hung up the phone and slid it back in his jacket pocket in one fluid gesture. “It’s nine p.m. I’d be happy for you to stay here another night and let all your responsibilities rest until daylight. What can you really accomplish tonight?”

Persephone clutched yesterday’s dress to her stomach. “Oh, it’s fine. I’m a night owl. So are my friends.” Lies. All lies. She was usually in bed before the evening news.

If Hades could tell she was lying, he didn’t call her on it. He merely inclined his head and held a hand out toward the door. “Charon will be waiting by the time you get to the front of the hotel. May I walk you?”

She blinked, then nodded. She’d never met anyone so… well, so courteous. Courtly, that was the perfect word for Hades Ubeli. He was like some old timey knight with his chivalry, coming to her rescue when she was a damsel in distress.

Books had been the one entertainment her mother allowed and she might have swooned over a knight or two throughout her adolescence.

Hades held out an arm. She shoved her dirty dress behind her back, more glad than ever that she’d balled up her dirty undies and bra inside it, and took his arm with her other hand. Electricity crackled through her body the moment they touched.

Not to mention that the strength that emanated off his body was… wow. Just wow. She’d never felt anything like it. Being so near him made her feel a little lightheaded all over again.

He led her smoothly across the living room of the penthouse, out the door and to the elevator. Persephone had never wanted an elevator to come faster and wished it would never show up at the same time.

“So,” she said, hating the way her voice came out as little more than a squeak. Gods, she must seem like such a little girl to someone like Hades. “What do you do? Like, I mean, as a job?”

She glanced up at his face.

Bad idea. Really bad idea.

She’d only seen him in dim lighting before. The hallway didn’t have fluorescents or anything, but it was enough to see that, holy crap, Hades was gorgeous. Freaking stunning from the top of his elegant cheekbones to the strong set of his jaw.

And the way he smiled down at her, still all dark and broody but like she amused him at the same time—it took her breath away. Literally, she was having a hard time remembering how to breathe.

His grin deepened until a dimple popped in his cheek and she jerked back like she’d been struck.

“I own many business and investment properties. You all right?” Hades’s brow wrinkled. His eyelashes were black and long, a hint of beauty on a hard, masculine face.

Of course his eyelashes were freakin’ perfect.

“Persephone?”

“Yeah. Yes. Yep.” She bobbed her head like a fool and got hit with another smile. They say Cupid shoots arrows, but this felt more like a punch, a battering ram, smashing her right in the gut, pushing her insides out and replacing them with a golden glow.

Was this because she’d been completely deprived of male company her whole life and so now she was boy crazy, the first time she got to be this near a man?

No, it couldn’t be that. She hadn’t felt anything but disgust when Paul tried hitting on her.

She was pretty sure this was all Hades.

He didn’t move back. He stared down at her, the smile slowly falling away, replaced by an intensity that pinned her in place like a butterfly to a board.

When the elevator pinged its arrival, she all but jumped out of her skin.

The corner of Hades’s mouth tipped up and he let go of her arm. “After you.”

Feeling like an idiot, she stepped onto the elevator. She thought he’d leave her there but he stepped on with her. The space shrank and the air heated. Persephone held her arms stiff beside her body. She was an awkward mannequin next to the tall, broad-shouldered god filling the small box.

The hairs on her arms rose where his suit coat brushed against her. The rich fabric felt like the suit coat he’d draped over her last night. She’d never been so aware of anyone in her whole life.

She thought that surely it would pass, but nope, the entire ride down, the electric awareness hummed under her skin. She about jumped off the elevator once they got to the lobby.

“Thank you again,” she said. “You have no idea how much I appreciate what you did for me. I mean,” she shook her head as a shudder worked down her spine, “I can’t imagine what would have happened if it hadn’t been for?—”

She sucked in a deep breath and cut off her word barrage. She looked Hades in the eyes, tried as hard as possible to ignore the way his intense gaze made her stomach go absolutely liquid, and said, “Just, thank you.”

“All right, Persephone,” he murmured. A flush came over her—she was freakin’ lightheaded at the sound of her name on his lips. “You ever need anything, you reach out to me, yeah? I’ll take care of you.”

Gods, he was so nice. She reached out and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

His nostrils flared at the touch and she immediately let go and spun on her heel, her own eyes wide. Oh gods, why had she touched him? What was she thinking?

Glancing around, she saw all eyes in the lobby were on her and Hades. And here she was, making a fool of herself. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly, horrified at how silly and na?ve Hades probably found her.

But she shook it off. Oh well. It was done. For one shining night, okay, two shining nights, she’d been a brief blip on Hades Ubeli’s passing radar, and that had been enough.

She bit back the impulse to thank Hades again but instead, kept her back to him and walked across the lobby. It felt like the longest walk of her life. She could feel every eye in the place on her. But was he still watching her?

Duh, no, stupid. He probably turned around and went right back up to the penthouse. She’d likely never see him again.

The huge bald-headed bouncer, Charon, was waiting for her as she pushed through the revolving doors.

Persephone stopped short at seeing him. Wow. She hadn’t realized quite how… large he was. All his proportions were normal, he just came in extra, extra-large. He must be six foot five and could have had a career as a linebacker. He wore a suit that had to have been specifically tailored for his frame and he had a small earpiece in his ear.

He nodded at her and walked around to the back of the sleek, black, expensive-looking car. “Miss Vestian.”

“Thank you.”

She slid onto the cool leather bench seat and Charon closed the door behind her. She clutched her old dress in her lap nervously.

“Seatbelt,” Charon said from the front seat.

“Oh, right.” She finally relinquished her clothing to the seat beside her and pulled the seatbelt across her chest, clicking it into place.

“Address?”

She gave him the address and he plugged it into a screen on the dashboard. They pulled out of the hotel’s drive and the lights of the city slid over the car. Persephone stared out the window like she always did when she was in a car or on the bus.

Six weeks here and the city still awed her. She’d read books about cities and buildings so tall they scraped the sky, but reading about them and seeing them for herself were two entirely different things.

Persephone had grown up surrounded by corn and sorghum crops. Rows and rows as far as the eye could see. And that was all. The idea of a place so packed with people they had to build upward and stack them on top of each other to fit was something Persephone hadn’t really even been able to comprehend before coming here.

The ride was silent. Charon didn’t say anything and Persephone was glad because she was too intimidated to talk to the big man. If he didn’t talk, that meant she didn’t have to either.

And soon enough, she began to recognize the landmarks of the Donahue’s neighborhood.

She sat up straighter and looked at the clock on the dashboard screen. Nine twenty. Okay, at least Timmy would be asleep. Her heart squeezed in her chest. She’d miss the little boy. He wouldn’t understand why she’d suddenly disappeared. It wasn’t fair to him. But there was no way she could stay. Not after what Paul had done.

She took a deep breath as the car came to a stop.

Okay. She’d go in, get her money and belongings, and move on from there. She could get a hotel for the night. She almost laughed thinking about the kind of hotel she could afford compared to where she’d stayed last night. She’d have to take the train to the outskirts of the city and look for the cheapest motel she could find, but at least it would get her through the night. Tomorrow she could look for another job and?—

“Miss Vestian?” Charon questioned. “If you’re having second thoughts, I know Mr. Ubeli wouldn’t mind?—”

“No.” Persephone’s attention snapped back to the present moment and she shoved her door open, hiking her feet to the pavement. She cringed, thinking of how the beautiful heels were probably already getting scratched. She’d wanted to return the clothing in perfect order to Mr. Ubeli along with her thanks.

Oh well, she sighed. It wasn’t like he could return them to the store after she’d worn them.

“Thank you. And thank Mr. Ubeli again for me.” She closed the car door before she could start babbling again.

Charon had gotten out of the car as well and she looked upward at his face, so far above hers. “Mr. Ubeli asked me to give you this.” He held out a card. “If you ever have need of him for any reason, any reason at all, you give him a call. You understand?”

She nodded quickly and took the card. She gave a quick smile and turned to hurry down the sidewalk toward the Donahue’s brownstone.

She waited until the black car pulled away and drove down the road before knocking on the door. She didn’t ring the doorbell because she didn’t want to wake Timmy.

It felt weird to knock on the front door rather than letting herself in with her key, but she hadn’t even had time to grab those before Paul had accosted her last night.

She shook her head. Had that really only been last night? Because as much as she’d been shocked to find out that it was evening when she woke up today, the events of last night had already begun to feel very distant, like they’d happened to some other girl. A defense mechanism probably, but she didn’t have another moment to think about it because the door swung open.

“Mrs. Donahue. Hi. I’m here to pick up my things. I don’t know if Paul— If Mr. Donahue told you, but I quit yester?—”

“Whore! How dare you show your face back here?”

“Wha—”

But before Persephone could even get the word out, the middle-aged woman stepped out onto the front stoop and slapped Persephone. Hard.

Persephone jerked back and lifted a hand to her face.

Ow.

For such a small lady, Mrs. Donahue packed a mean hit.

“Wait,” Persephone held up her hands, “there’s been some kind of misunderstanding here?—”

“Did you or did you not try to fuck my husband?” Mrs. Donahue sneered.

“Of course not! I would never!”

But it was clear by the expression on Diana Donahue’s face that she didn’t believe a word coming out of Persephone’s mouth. And why would she? It was Persephone’s word against Paul’s.

“You’re way out of line,” Persephone said, fists clenched, “but you’re never going to believe me and I get it. So just pay me the money you owe me and let me get my things and you never have to see me again.”

Mrs. Donahue made a disbelieving noise. “You’re not stepping one foot inside my house, you homewrecking whore. I had to miss work today to stay home with Timmy. The gods only know what sort of influence you’ve had on my baby.” She shook her head and went to close the door.

Persephone shoved her foot in the way and pushed on the door. It startled Mrs. Donahue into stumbling several feet back into the foyer. But that only seemed to anger her more.

“I’m calling the police,” she shrieked.

“All I’m asking for is what you owe me,” Persephone said, barely able to believe what was happening. “You have to pay me. I did the job. And I need my things.”

“I burned your things. The second Paul told me what you tried to do after you didn’t come home last night. I threw them in the trash and set them on fire.”

Persephone felt her mouth drop open. She’d burned— but that was all Persephone had— all she owned in the whole world?—

“But—” Persephone broke off, biting back tears. Paul stalked into the room behind Diana. “Paul, tell her,” Persephone appealed. “Tell her what happened. Please. I need the money for the work I did. I don’t have anything else. I need that money.”

But Paul was stone-faced and when he walked forward, he put an arm around his wife. “You need to go or we will call the police.”

“I’m already dialing,” Diana said, touching her phone and holding it to her ear. “Yes, hello. There’s a psycho intruder in our house. Our former nanny who’s stalking my husband.”

Persephone stumbled backward and pulled the front door shut behind her. It wasn’t fair! They shouldn’t be able to do that to her. She’d been depending on that money.

She heard sirens in the distance. They probably weren’t coming for her. Sirens were a normal part of city life but still, it had her running.

She didn’t have any ID or even a social security number, thanks to her mom’s obsession with living off the grid. It was one of the reasons working for the Donahues was so perfect. They didn’t mind paying her under the table in cash.

But now there was no cash.

No job.

No nothing.

She didn’t even have her phone thanks to that bastard from last night.

She only slowed down when she turned the corner and ran down the steps to the subway.

She had twenty bucks on her from the night before and that was all. She spent five on a subway ticket and got on the first train that showed up.

Sitting on the grimy subway car, she looked around and the full weight of her situation finally hit her.

She had nowhere to sleep tonight.

Her eyes fell on a dirty, obviously homeless man sleeping in the corner of the train.

Well, that was one option.

Her head dropped backwards against the window behind her and she closed her eyes. Gods, was she seriously contemplating sleeping on the subway car like the homeless bum? Was that how far she’d fallen?

Why are you being so sanctimonious? You are homeless.

She scrubbed her hand down her face.

She thought she was so brave, escaping the farm. She’d done it on the spur of the moment. She’d seen a chance and taken it. Persephone was a terrible liar and no one could read her better than her controlling mother.

Controlling. Ha. Her mother was pathological.

Demeter Vestian watched every single thing her daughter did. She monitored how much food Persephone ate, how much she slept, if she’d done all her chores, if she did her schoolwork and did it perfectly. Most of the time Persephone felt more like a science experiment or a prize show dog than a daughter.

Not that her mother ever showed her off.

No, that was the other singular rule of their lives. They never saw anyone. Ever.

If they had to have a vet out to look at the horses, Persephone was locked in the cellar for the duration.

Her mom took the truck into town twice a month for food and supplies, but Persephone was always left behind. Persephone only got to read about other kids in books. She never met any.

Until she was a teenager and got fed up with it.

One time when she was fifteen, she stole the truck and drove down the long road that led away from the farm.

It was stupid and reckless and she only knew the rudiments of how to drive. But the road was flat and straight and it was a bright, sunny afternoon. Within an hour, she’d made it to town.

She pulled the truck to a stop on the side of the road and parked it as soon as she came to a grouping of buildings. She got out and started walking.

She walked from one store to the next, delighted and amazed by everything she saw, but most of all by the people. They seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see them. Who was she? they wanted to know. She didn’t know how to answer their questions. She felt like it would be betraying her mom to say she lived down the road. No one was supposed to know she existed. She never knew why, but she knew that much.

But someone recognized her. The owner of the general store, a man so old his skin was papery with wrinkles and folds.

“You related to Demeter? You’re the spittin’ image. The spittin’ image, as I live and breathe. You a cousin come to visit? Or her niece?”

Persephone nodded, not daring to speak. She backed out of the general store. Right into a group of teenagers.

One of the boys said she was pretty and he invited her to a party they were all going to. A party! Like she’d read about in her Sweet Valley High books.

She got in the back of a truck with the two boys and three girls and they drove out to an empty field. Persephone couldn’t stop smiling and laughing even though she started feeling self-conscious after one of the other girls whispered loudly about her, making fun of her worn overalls with the patches on the knees.

But not even that was enough to dampen Persephone’s mood. She helped the guys build up the bonfire and she felt a warm glow that had nothing to do with the fire when the boy who’d first called her pretty touched her hair and said it was the color of moonlight.

Persephone had never heard anything so pretty or poetic and when the boy invited her to sit on the hay bale beside him, she giggled but accepted.

They’d started breaking out the beer, which Persephone politely declined, when suddenly the field was lit up by headlights and the blaring noise of sirens.

“Shit, cops!” the boy sitting beside Persephone shouted.

Persephone had jumped up and covered her ears, confused.

The boy who’d called her pretty ran away, along with all his friends, disappearing into the nearby cornfield. They all left her standing there alone as two police cars surrounded her.

Almost the second they came to a stop, Demeter was jumping out of the first police car and running toward Persephone.

Persephone was both relieved and horrified to see her mother. She felt like crying, especially when her mother yanked her by her arm back toward the police car without a word.

She didn’t say a single word to her as the police drove them back to her mom’s truck where she’d abandoned it outside town.

And her mom didn’t say a word after she’d hauled Persephone into the passenger seat of the truck and slammed the side door shut after she was in. Or for the entire forty-five minute drive back to the farm.

As soon as the farm came back into sight, Persephone finally ventured, “Mom, I’m sorry. I just wanted to see how?—”

“Do you know what could have happened to you?” her mom yelled, slamming her foot on the brakes and jamming the truck into park. “How could you be so selfish?”

Persephone hunched down in her seat.

“After all I do for you.” Mom shook her head. “After the years I have sacrificed for you, slaved for you, out here in the middle of nowhere. You think I like it out here with no one but you for company? But I do it. For you. To protect you. And you go and throw it back in my face like this.”

“Why?” Persephone sat up, slamming her hands on the seat beside her. “Why do we have to live like this? Why can’t we live in town? Or a city? Why can’t I have friends or go to a normal school?”

But Mom shook her head like Persephone was being ridiculous. “How many times do I have to tell you how dangerous it is out there?”

“It wasn’t dangerous today,” Persephone disagreed. “Those kids were nice. We were having a nice time.”

Mom scoffed. “You’re so stupid you don’t even know what you don’t know. You think those boys were being nice to you because they liked you? They wanted what’s between your legs. If I hadn’t shown up you would have turned out to be a statistic in the morning paper.”

Persephone shoved open her door and got out of the truck. “You’re wrong.” And she’d slammed the door behind her.

All of which was the wrong thing to do.

Because her mother got out of the truck just as quickly and before Persephone could blink, she was around the truck and had Persephone’s arm in her iron grip.

She dragged Persephone into the house, ignoring her cries.

“No. No, Mom!” Persephone screeched as soon as she realized where Mom was taking her. “Not the cellar. Please. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry!”

But once Mom had made her mind up about something, there was no changing it. And though Persephone was fifteen, she’d always been small for her age and she was no match for her mom’s wiry, compactly muscled body.

Mom had her down the stairs to the damp, chilly cellar before she could even get another plea out. She shoved Persephone to the floor and jogged back up the steps.

“Mom,” Persephone called, jumping to her feet. “Mama!” She ran up the stairs right as her mother slammed the cellar door on her.

And no matter how much she banged on the door or begged and pleaded and swore she’d do better, her mom wouldn’t open up.

She didn’t open the doors for three days and three nights. Not that Persephone knew that until later. At the time, all Persephone knew was that she was in the cold and the dark and that it was never ending. There was a gallon of water and a bucket for her to use the bathroom, and Persephone finally got hungry enough that she opened some of the jam they had stored down there and ate it straight.

And when her mother finally opened the door and Persephone had squinted up at the rectangle of light, things were never the same between them again.

Persephone opened her eyes and looked around the subway car.

She couldn’t go home. She’d sworn once she finally escaped that farm, and her mother, that she’d never ever go back.

Which meant there was really only one option, no matter how mortifying it might be. Persephone pulled the card Charon had given her out of her skirt pocket.

The subway car was almost empty. A weary-looking woman in business attire sat in the front, the seat furthest away from the homeless man. Persephone stood up, holding onto the poles as she made her way over to the woman.

“Hi, ma’am, I’m sorry to bother you, but could I borrow your phone?”