***
The second morning of her being here with me, she’s making one hell of a noise in the kitchen. Yesterday, she didn’t come out of her room. I went up a few times to take her food, grateful that she isn’t trying to starve herself in protest.
But she didn’t speak to me and wouldn’t even make eye contact.
Today, however, she’s trying a new tactic. Instead of making herself small and invisible, she’s going loud and obnoxious.
She slams one of the kitchen’s drawers, and the cutlery inside rattles in protest.
“Looking for something in particular?” I ask, walking in and tugging the fridge open to get the milk for my coffee. “I’m sure I can help you find it?”
She pulls open another door and finds a metal kebab skewer. A long stainless-steel spike, which she lifts from the draw with a dangerous sparkle in her eye. She waves it at me. “This will do just fine!” she says triumphantly.
“Athena,” I mutter with warning. “Put the damn spike down.”
“Why? Are you scared?” she muses, a cheeky little smile on her face.
“Of that? No. If you wanted to stab me, you could have chosen one of the butcher’s knives instead,” I scoff.
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t really plan to be up for manslaughter, thank you. I just want to go home!” She storms from the kitchen.
I’m torn between letting her try out whatever she wants to try out or taking the skewer way from her before she hurts herself. Turning toward the coffee machine, I decide to let her get her frustration out.
However, my mind is very quickly changed when I hear a loud bang coming from the front door.
Dropping everything, I run to the foyer.
Athena holds a small marble sculpture of a goldfish.
She’s jammed the shape end of the metal spike into the door lock and is hammering it in with the base of the sculpture.
She swings her arm, and another loud bang echoes against the door.
“Ow,” she mutters in frustration as she tries to hold the spike steady.
“What the hell! You’re going to end up smashing your own hand if you keep that up!” I snap angrily, grabbing the goldfish from her hand and setting it down on the foyer table.
“You’re just worried about your lock breaking!” she blurts out.
I grab her arm and pull her toward me, checking her hands, searching for any sign of injury.
The spike is still embedded in the lock, but I couldn’t care less.
Athena pushes me away, but I tighten my grip and drag her against my chest. Her scent washes over me, distracting me for a moment. Soft, floral, and feminine.
“What did you think would happen?” I snap.
“The lock will break open like in the movies!” she shouts at me. “Then I can leave!”
I clench my jaw and shake my head, closing my eyes for a moment.
“No, what will happen is that you’ll end up breaking your hand somehow. Or the spike will slip, and you’ll stab yourself. And evenif…ifthe lockhappenedto pop open, which I assure you, it won’t… what happens after that? There are three additional locks on this door. One requires a fingerprint scan. One requires a security code. The only override is by voice command.Myvoice! You weren’t going to get anywhere.”
My voice is stern, scolding her for putting herself at risk like that.
I take a breath, softening my tone.
“How can I keep you safe when you insist on doing these stupid things?” I demand.
