No one said what I expected them to say.

No one was like; "Murderer!" or "Somebody call 911! Nico Tymborchos a killa!"

'Go on.' Psyche said.

'You're not shocked?' I asked.

'You are talking to a girl who led the death of both her sisters.' Psyche said. 'I would have been less shocked if you told me you killed your entire family.'

'I know a girl who killed her father.' Neeks said. 'But he tried to kill them. What's your excuse?'

'I can't remember everything.' I lied.

Psyche stood. 'I've never tried this; so do not be disappointed if it does not work.'

Psyche held our hands.

'Nico; hold your sister's hand.' Psyche ordered.

Neeks looked like he didn't want to but for some reason he did.

'Close your eyes.' Psyche said.

We did; and I felt my consciousness leave me.

I stared at my fourteen year old self.

'God; I looked terrible.' I said.

'You're not kidding.' Neeks said next to me. 'Not like you don't now.'

Fourteen year old me had pigtails the twin braid kind, Dexter glasses they weren't even necessary, black lipstick What was I thinking?, yellow plaid shirt and yellow jeans.

I remember I was trying to look like Billie Eilish..

'Nico,' Dad called. 'Time to go.'

Billie-Me was busy applying fake freckles. 'Coming, daddy.'

'Daddy?' Nico asked.

'Shut up.' If I were in my body I would've been blushing.

'I called my father that.' Psyche said, with a tinge of nostalgia.

In ten seconds I was going to hear mom, I thought

'What are you doing here?' Mom asked.

'I stand corrected.' I said aloud. 'Fight starting in three—'

'Your two weeks are over.' Dad said. 'I want to see my daughter.'

'My daughter will not go with you.' Mom said. 'Didn't you say she wasn't your daughter; so she is my daughter.'

'I was drunk; and with Carmen.' Dad said. 'I had to deny her.'

'Carmen.' Mom repeated. 'Deny her.'

'Let me see Nico.' Dad said.

'Sul mio cadavere.' Mom said.

'Over my dead body.' I translated.

'I speak Italian, idiota.' Neeks said.

'I do not.' Psyche said.

'I gave her life; I decide whether or not she goes or stays.' Mom said.

'The court decides whether she goes or stays.' Dad said. 'Disobey them and you're not going to help your custody argument.'

'He is correct, Antoinette.'

'Dad?' Nico asked.

'For now, he's Malcolm Anthony.' I said. 'My dad's temp lawyer and all time wet blanket.'

'He's always a wet blanket.' Psyche and Neeks said.

Billie-Me went below.

I didn't understand how I didn't see how closely he looked to Hades before; then again, I'd never met Hades. The only differences were the blue eyes, shorter hair, and less pale skin.

'If you disobey the given rules, Frasier has all rights to say you are a bad influence on the child.' Malcolm never called me by my real name. 'He would say that you are also irresponsible and lack the morals to bring her up to be a law abiding citizen. Am I right, Frasier?'

'Yeah.' Dad's eyes glazed over. 'I could make you say that.'

He spotted me. 'There you are. C'mere.'

'Stay there, mi angelo.' Mom said.

'Come to me.' Dad said.

'Stay with mama.' Mom retaliated.

'Tua madre è puttana.' Dad said. 'Come to daddy.'

'Tuo padre è pazzo.' Mom threw it back like Missy. 'La mamma lo sa meglio.'

'Your father's crazy; mother knows best.' I translated.

'Sounds very similar to my parent's argument when they planned to throw me off a cliff.' Psyche said.

They went at it, throwing more and more insults at each other using me as the sick boy.

Malcolm raised his hand for silence. 'Come to your father, Tymborchos.'

I remembered feeling slowly pushed to Malcolm. I also remember thinking he had invisible secretaries to do that for him.

'He was right; he controls you.' Neeks said.

'Father-Daughter bond.' Psyche said. 'It is worse with gods.'

Malcolm's eyes glinted with knowing. 'Very good, child.'

'Shut up, Mitch.' I warned.

'Why are you here?' Dad asked. 'We don't need you anymore. Robert's fine.'

'Unfortunately, Robert Salamander does not have the proper rights to receive this.' Malcolm gave the envelope in his hands to dad.

Dad looked at the address. 'City hospital?'

'The paternity test you asked for.' Malcolm said.

'Explain?' Nico ordered.

'Dad wanted to prove a point.' I said. 'Malcolm laughed for the first time since we knew him.'

'All signs show negative.' Malcolm said. 'She's not your child, Frasier.'

Dad looked at the reports. Then at me. Then back at the reports. 'Is this some kind of joke?'

'I do not joke around, Mr di Angelo.' Malcolm said, obviously pretty pleased with himself. 'And if you still do not believe it; we could go back to the hospital and confirm.'

Usual questions people would ask;

-So you cheated on me?

-Is this true?

-Who was it?

-Are you seeing this?

Yada yada yada yada yada.

But Frasier wasn't usual.

'How fake do these reports look?' Dad asked, giving them to mom.

Mom had good eyes. She could spot a fake once she saw one. From receipts me, to report cards me, and even legal documents Dad.

'Questi sono autentici.' Mom said. 'Non mentono.'

'These are authentic.' Neeks and I said. 'They do not lie.'

'Ci credi?' Dad asked, throttling her. 'Credi che non sia mia figlia? Credi di aver dormito con qualcun altro?'

'He's asking if she believes the reports.' Neeks said.

'Per quattordici anni non avevo idea di ospitare un bastarda.' She said. Dead calm.

'She's okay with it?' Nico asked.

'No.' Psyche said. 'She has to completely process—'

Then mom pounced.

She changed at me and strangled me. 'You started this!'

'It's not her fault—'

'It's all her fault!' Mom yelled. 'Per quattordici anni non avevo idea di ospitare un bastarda!'

'See?' Psyche asked.

'Mom— mi— fai male.' I croaked.

I could clearly remember choking to death; barely hearing what mom said.

That's why the image got all hazy, mom's voice sounded like an echo and the background started to play If I Die Young.

'Even when you're about to die; it's music.' Neeks said. 'And you're a child of Hades.'

Next my background music changed to The Greatest. The memory was clear, and I was back to my strength.

I took mom's hands off my neck and slapped her.

'Stai zitto!' I screamed.

Dark energy went right into Mom; then she slumped, unconscious.

'Annie.' Dad said, going to her.

Malcolm smiled cruelly. 'Too much. Too much.'

He went to unconscious mom. 'She is dead, Frasier.'

'What do you know?' Dad still tried checking her pulse.

'I know these things.' Malcolm said. 'And let me warn you; do not blame Tymborchos for Marie Antoinette's death.'

Malcolm turned to me. 'It was necessary.'

The lights went off. And Malcolm was gone.