Gently, Penelope guided me back down to the pillow, then settled in beside me. She was stroking my curls now, her fingers like soft, soothing waves. I focused on the motion of them until my breathing finally steadied and the nightmare released me from its clutches.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
“Don’t be. It was just a nightmare,” Penelope assured me. “I getthem too.”
“You do?” I could not imagine Penelope, always so calm and composed, ever being plagued by nightmares. “What about?”
She seemed to hesitate, though I could not discern her expression in the dark.
“Things that happened long ago,” she whispered as she began to sit up.
Instinctively, my hand shot out to stop her. “Where are you going?”
“Well, seeing assomeonehas commandeered my bed, I’ve been relegated to the chair,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
I didn’t smile back. Instead, my grip tightened.
“Will you stay here, just a little longer?”
I knew I was being childish, but in that moment, I couldn’t bear the thought of not being near her. I sensed Penelope hesitating again, but then she lay back down, the tension inside me easing a little as she did so.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. “Your dream?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s all right.”
“But there is something you want to tell me, isn’t there?”
How could she read me so well, even in total darkness?
“I’m afraid…you’ll think less of me if I do,” I admitted.
“That’s not possible, Melantho,” she said ever so delicately.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shape my thoughts into something coherent.
“When my father told me the truth today, the first thing I felt was…relief. Not sadness or anger or bitterness but relief. All this time, I’ve worried about her. Every day, every night, every single second, I’ve wondered where my mother is. If she’s safe, if she’s in pain, if she’s starving or cold or afraid. I’ve worried about her getting older, about having nobody there to look after her. Over and over, I’ve worried. But now…”
I trailed off, the words lodging thickly in my throat like a sobthreatening to split.
“Now you know she is at rest,” Penelope finished for me.
I nodded, biting my trembling lip. “Does that make me a terrible person?”
“Of course not, Melantho. If given the choice, we would all choose peace over suffering for our loved ones. Even if that peace could only be found in the realm below.”
“What if she’s not at peace though?” I whispered. “What if they didn’t bury her properly and her soul is trapped down there?”
“If that is the case, then when it is our time, we will find her on Hades’s shores, and we will ensure she crosses with us.”
“How?”
“Melantho, do you truly doubt I could outsmart some old ferryman?” Her voice glimmered like stars brightening the night sky.
I smiled, and another wave of relief flooded through me, lulling me back toward the soft edges of sleep. But there was still more I wanted to say, more unspoken truths weighing on my heart.
A quietness settled between us, and I shifted closer so that our faces were barely a whisper apart.
“Penelope?”
