A Month Later*
My mother wouldn't let me out of her sight.
It had been a month since I arrived home, and she'd been fussing over me the entire time. It was understandable, of course; she didn't want to lose me again.
I spent most of my time in my room. I'd stare out my window, imagining Annabeth's ship appear on the horizon. Imagining us embracing on the shore, and how she'd tell me she made a terrible mistake, that she'd never abandon me again.
But it never happened. And so I stared. And waited.
My mother knew something was wrong, but didn't ask. I was grateful for that. I don't think I could explain everything to her if she did.
I was getting worse. Not having Annabeth around was like having a hole in my heart that got bigger every day. Soon, it would consume me.
I hoped she didn't feel the same way.
It was night. The moon reflected on the sea, just like it did the day Annabeth kidnapped me.
Oh, what I'd give to see her again, I thought sadly. To just hop on a boat and find-
My eyes widened, and I jumped out of bed.
Ten minutes later, I was at Frank's room. I could hear moans coming from inside, but I didn't care.
I knocked on the door repeatedly, to make sure that he couldn't ignore me. Because of how late it was, the hallways were deserted.
A few minutes later, Frank opened his door, wearing a robe. "What?"
Behind him, on his bed, was a dark-skinned girl with the same curly-hair as Hazel. That was where the similarities ended, but it was obvious that he'd picked the prostitute because of their resemblances.
"This is how you're coping with leaving her?" I asked. "Really?"
"Oh, like you haven't enjoyed your share of prostitutes," Frank scoffed. "What do you want?"
I pulled him into the hallway, so the girl wouldn't hear us.
"Isn't it obvious?" I asked. "I'm going to find Annabeth, and I need your help."