Demeter's rubbed her hand against her red, raw eyes. She laid her cheek on the dinner table and stared out of the back window where a wide swept view of the river was displayed. Her eyes were focused on the spot where the police said Persephone's captors had docked. The same place where they had found her muddied shoe with a note attached that made Demeter fall to her knees in panic and despair.
When she saw the note was written in his eerily beautiful handwriting, she knew instantly who had taken her daughter. But she didn't reveal Hades to the police; Regardless of how badly she wanted to, she held her tongue, knowing that if she were to reveal that Hades had kidnapped Persephone, the police would consider motive and eventually link Demeter to illegal trade. Along with other crimes that would throw her in prison for years.
The night she learned it was Hades, she crossed the river and ran to Zeus, banging on his massive mahogany front door. The sound of her slamming fist ran through the empty streets. She banged repeatedly against the door hard enough for her hand to later bruise.
The moment he answered and pulled her inside, she sat on the cold wooden floor of his foyer and begged him to help her.
He rested his arm on his iron stairwell as she cried. When she had finally stopped wailing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"What exactly do you want me to do?"
Her eyes were bloodshot and frantic. She shuffled on her knees closer to him, like a peasant pleading at the feet of a king.
"Send your guards to the underworld to kill him," she said while she dragged her hand across her dripping nose.
Zeus let out a mirthless laugh. A laugh that revealed how much he didn't care about the situation.
"Demeter, I assume you came to me because of my family ties to Hades. He is the dark stain on my reputation, after all. The orphaned nephew I took in as my own, turns into one of Olympus's most wanted criminals. He is the bane of my existence and you're a fool for indebting yourself to him." Zeus walked to a small side table where he peered at a picture. Demeter could only make out a young boy in a school uniform in the dim light. He opened the drawer below the picture and pulled out a gun. "Although . . . I know my nephews sick mind well enough to send you off with some helpful advice." He dropped the gun onto her lap. The cold silver steel sent a chill through her body. She stared at the weapon as Zeus finished.
"If you want your beloved daughter back, you're going to have to get her yourself."