If anyone is still reading this, I'd love to hear what you think! We're about halfway done, so get ready for this to become even more unhinged...

"Remember to center yourself, my lady. I could easily push you over if I wanted to. Bend your knees." Erik mimics the stance and nods for me to try again.

Since his rescue attempt at the Boars party, Erik has been desperately trying to win my favor and prove he can be trusted. To his credit, his apology was sincere and detailed, never once making excuses for his failed coup and childish notions about leadership. Ben, however, wasn't very receptive to sorry I stabbed you, I didn't actually mean it. His apology to Ben is being my personal bodyguard whenever I'm on the mainland.

"Like this?" I try to mimic his stance, but Erik taps at my shoulders and back until I've straightened my posture into the correct shape. "Is standing like this going to make it impossible for you to push me over?"

Erik laughs. "Not necessarily, but once you've mastered your center gravity, it'll make it significantly more difficult."

We practice our stance until Erik is satisfied I'm not going to hurt myself, and then we start today's weight lifting session. Before Erik, I'd never tried anything beyond a nice long jog as far as exercise goes, so I was reluctant at first. All my mind can seem to do is conjure memories of my mother complaining whenever women were too buff. . . whatever that means.

I like the power deadlifting gives me. It shows the world that I can can have a soft body and still kick your ass with all the unseen muscle hiding underneath. After a particularly grueling session, I release the weight and relax my core.

"I'm going to help you beat the record," Erik proclaims proudly. "No one has been able to beat my grandfather's 900 pound deadlift, but he would have been honored to know you did."

It's admirable how simple Erik is, now that I know him a little better. He has a convoluted sense of justice, but his heart's in the right place. He's devoutly loyal to Team Boar, is passionate about the gym, and is surprisingly receptive to critique and criticisms, which I found most surprising of all. As we enter one of the cellars to get an after workout snack, I realize the most surprising thing about him is the strange way in which he talks about men.

"Hey, Erik? If I ask you something, do you promise not to get angry?"

"Of course, my lady," he answers happily and hands me a boiled egg. "Ask away."

It takes me two days after I've sailed back to Hydra to come up with a plan worth sharing with Ben. After gathering my notes, I race up the hillside and into the jungle leading to the medical facility that houses the only phone on all of Hydra. Some things are just too exciting to wait for the response of a letter.

I hear the line ring six times before Ben answers with a groggy, "Hello?"

"Did I wake you?" Wait, what time is it? "I'm so sorry."

"No," Ben refutes, but I can hear him yawn. "What happened?"

"Did you know Erik is gay? Full on gay, as in he is only attracted to men."

I hear genuine surprise in his voice when he says, "What?"

"Yeah, at first I thought he was like us, but when I asked him what he liked about Jane, he basically admired her because she was the only woman who could best him in a fistfight. And when I asked him what he would have done when it came to having kids, he said, and I quote, I would have found a way to persevere. That's the gayest thing I've ever heard. Hey," I add, "so what's the deal with being being gay, anyway?"

"Deal?"

"Yeah, everyone is always so weird about it. I mean, even you're kinda defensive." I smile against the heavy plastic of the receiver when he starts to explain he's not gay. "See? Even the accusation makes you upset. What does it matter if someone thinks you're gay or bi or whatever? Who cares? I mean, nobody on Hydra is weird about it."

There's a pause on the line before he asks, "What do you mean?"

"Nobody is weird about touching here. I mean, it's not for me, but they're always kissing and hugging and touching each other and it's just seen as normal. I honestly can't tell half the time if they're lovers or just really good friends, and nobody cares either way. I've literally seen women kiss on the mouth in greeting and then start gushing about their husbands. Like, not everything has to be sexual."

Ben chuckles lowly over the line. "Yes, well, you're essentially asking for a history of each of the four teams."

I settle on the cold linoleum flooring and twirl the phone cord around my fingers. "I'm all ears, professor."

"All of the teams, except for the Falcons—"

"Obviously," I interrupt.

"Obviously," he repeats, and I can hear his smile over the phone. "The Bears, Boars, and Wolves were founded on the premise that you should be good friends with your wife. We've unlocked the true secret to happiness."

"Which is?"

"That women are happiest when they feel safe and loved. It's like their magic becomes palpable enough for us to feel it running through our veins."

Ben sounds enraptured at the thought, and I don't know why fear creeps in. Pressing the phone harder against my ear, my eyes dart around at all of the places someone could be hiding in this room. Why didn't I check the room first? What if someone snuck onto Hydra and are hiding in here, waiting to ambush me as I talk on the phone?

"Cora?" Ben calls over the line. "Are you still there?"

I blurt out, "So, men are only nice to us to steal our magic?"

"Any man worth his weight in salt doesn't steal anything. That's what I'm trying to explain. Look at the two of us, for example." Ben clears his throat, suddenly pausing for a bit too long. "On the. . ." He clears his throat again. "On the night of. . . when my eyes glowed?"

"I remember," I say, sparing him further embarrassment. "You saw the future. Are you saying that I gave you magic? What was different about that time? I thought I've been giving you magic when—" Now I'm the one embarrassed at the thought. "You know, when I'm Goddess of War."

"Power and magic are not the same thing," he explains. "Men could theoretically exert their physical power over their wives, but that would lock them out of a higher existence. Women only share magic when they're in love. What woman would freely give a man magic for treating her poorly?"

I don't know why I'm so paranoid, but this version of love feels transitionary and gross. "Why does it feel like you're saying women are some kind of prize?"

"Because they are," he says without a hint of embarrassment or shame. "You're joking, right? Cora," he starts, but he pauses and sighs heavily. "I know you've seen things I will never be able to understand, but I need you to believe me when I say men as a species are no better than birds."

"What are you talking about?"

"Please," he huffs in a low, comforting chuckle that makes me smile. "We give you shiny trinkets like a penguin or a raven would, we do silly little courting dances and scream for you to notice us any chance we get. Sounds a lot like a bird to me."

"Sorry." A rush of anxiety and fear starts to wean, but the paranoia hasn't completely vacated yet. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so defensive, it's just. . . I don't know. It feels like you're saying men are only nice to their wives so they can get laid."

"Always an exciting reward for a job well done, but it's not our main motivator. Well, I suppose I can only speak for myself."

I sit up on my knees, intrigued. "Okay, so if the ultimate prize isn't sex, what is it?"

Immediately, he answers, "Being in your presence without fear of you poisoning my food or stabbing me to death in my sleep."

It's not even a funny answer, but I'm so nervous and confused I laugh anyway. "Being in my presence?"

"Ever wonder why men don't live on Hydra? It's because they keep annoying their wives and get sent back to the Temple." Ben joins in as soon as I start laughing. "Except for the Bears," he clarifies. "The only reason the Bears don't live on Hydra is because we're on a security rotation. We're responsible for watching everyone at the Temple, so only one of us can visit home at a time."

I've had a few interactions with the other wives of Team Bear, and they always seemed the happiest and horniest. I swear, the things I've heard from those women would have made my grandmother faint. No wonder Team Bear are the only men consistently in a really good mood.

"Sorry," I say. "I feel like I derailed this entire conversation."

"You did nothing of the sort," he says kindly. "But to answer your initial question, the Falcons are the only group who don't see women as people, so they put no effort into the relationship. To them, talking to women is no different than talking to a goat."

"Jokes on them. Goats are really interesting conversationalists."

"You know that, but as far as they are concerned, you're pretending to talk to animals."

I gasp, scandalized. "How do any of them have wives when the competition is so steep? Seriously, who would marry a Falcon when you could just pick and Bear, a Boar, or a Wolf?"

"Falcons are master liars and manipulators. By the time their wives figure out who they really are, it's too late."

"But everyone is so close here," I blurt out, and then lower my voice and look around to make sure nobody has entered the room. "I find it hard to believe they wouldn't gossip with their friends about how horrible their husbands are. They're all so supportive."

"I do not profess to fully understand women," he continues, "but I do know what it's like to feel intense shame and embarrassment. Couples can legally separate at any time, but I've never personally heard of anyone getting a divorce. Maybe they look around at their happy friends and fear the social ramifications of admitting they failed?"

Yes, that's exactly what's happening because that's what's been happening to the women in my family for generations. "Shit," I breathe. "Shit, Ben, this is bad. I think I need to make some kind of announcement at the next festival. Do you think. . ." I cradle the receiver close to my face and ask, "Do you think you could help me with a speech?"

"I'd be honored." Ben pauses, and I literally hold my breath while I wait for him to speak again. "Can we meet at the Temple tomorrow to review? I'd offer to send it by raven, but I'm worried about something this sensitive falling into the wrong hands."

I notice I'm shaking when the receiver accidentally knocks too hard against the side of my head. Do not make this weird. You can be around him without being weird. "Yes, that sounds great." And then I slam the phone down on its cradle without giving him a chance to say goodbye. I realize I never thanked him and my fingers fly to punch in the number to his house in the Barracks. The second he answers, I practically scream, "I forgot to say thank you! Thank you!" I slam the phone down again and realize that was way weirder than if I had just left it alone.

I'm glad nobody is in here, so they can't see me crumple dramatically against the floor in embarrassment.

1 Year Later

The Island, 2007

I watch Amber sob into the arms of her best friends. "I just don't understand," she chokes out. "Why did he marry me? What was the point of wasting both our time? Why didn't he just marry a man in the first place? Doesn't he realize how miserable I am knowing I had a baby with someone who doesn't even love me?"

I stand off to the sidelines, nervous that she's about to point a finger and scream that this is all my fault. Life has been equally wonderful and horrible ever since I made a speech at the Temple. All I did was announce men and women are just people, and adult people can marry other adult people, therefore any adult person can marry another adult person.

At first, there wasn't much of a change at all beyond everyone at the Temple acting on edge around each other, like they were worried about doing something their friends deemed unmanly and getting questioned about their sexuality. But day after day, young men would drop by my room to ask me privately all the things they didn't feel comfortable asking their dad. I tried my best to be helpful, but I've never hugged so many crying teenage boys before, and a part of me is worried I wasn't as helpful as I should have been. A small portion of them confessed their undying love for their male best friend, but absolutely all of them shared a base level confusion.

On Hydra, almost all of the women loved me for bringing to their attention that their young sons were living under constant fear of the rigorous made up rules about masculinity. Even more women loved me for pointing out spousal abuse they were gaslit into thinking were normal, resulting in multiple divorces all coincidently from players on Team Falcon. But some—like Amber—hate me for the absolute chaos that has disrupted both islands over the course of a year. Now that gay men no longer fear death from their peers, Amber unfortunately found out she was married to someone who only married her out of a misplaced sense of tradition and duty. Most of the men have happily chosen to stay with their wives and are meaningfully trying to raise their sons without anymore stigma. It's no surprise that the only men genuinely infuriated by my speech was Team Falcon.

I successfully sneak away and return to the safety of my bedroom, only to find a note waiting for me: Please come to the Temple immediately. We have a problem, and I need you here. Meet us at the Bear's locker room as soon as you can. —Ben

I enter the Bear's locker room to find the entire team yelling over each other.

Hurrying over to Ben, I ask, "What happened?"

"Andor's just made the announcement he has a boyfriend. Wait," Ben calls as I turn away from him and towards the boys, "that's not the problem! The problem is—"

"How could you do this to us," Finn screeches in Andor's face. "We trusted you!"

I step in-between the two and frown up at Finn. "Finn, you're the most flamboyant boy in the group. You're supposed to be better than this. There's nothing wrong with being gay."

"I don't care that he's gay!" Finn's usually amped up more than everyone else, but now he's so upset he jitters like he's chugged eight cups of coffee. "I care that he's dating a Falcon!"

I spin around to ask Andor You're dating a Falcon? But it's no use because the entire room swells with the angry yelling of Finn, Ulf, Rune, and Karl and my words are completely drowned out.

"Lady Cora," Andor pleads over all the noise, "please help! They won't listen to me! Thor is different. He's not like the other Falcons. He doesn't even want to be a Falcon!"

Finn flings his head back, screaming in agony up at the ceiling, both hands gripping his face.

"Andor, dude, my guy," Karl interjects, "you are so much smarter than this! What are you doing?"

"Okay," I yell, and the boys finally fall silent. "Okay. Let's all just calm down and talk about this. Calmly. Understood?" As I look from each of their faces, I wait for them to nod before moving on until they've all agreed. "Good. Now, Andor, you go first. What happened?"

I listen as Andor tells us the full story of how they've been secretly dating for years, but they never told anyone about it because Thor the Fourth is dangerously homophobic.

"Which is why we need to bring Thor here," Andor finishes. "He's not safe around the Falcons anymore."

"Where is he right now," I ask.

All eyes turn to me, and then they turn to look at the far corner of the locker room where Thor is currently sitting, hunched and defeated.

"Everyone out," I announce. "Thor and I need to chat."

Ben sits on the edge of my bed at the Temple and attempts to act like everything is fine.

I sigh. "You're mad at me. I can tell."

"I'm not mad at you," Ben confirms, pausing before continuing. "I just don't think inviting the son of my arch nemesis to join our team is a very pragmatic approach to an intricately complex issue."

I thought it was a great idea, but now I'm not so sure. I always trust Ben's judgement, but I may have to make an exception where the Falcon's are concerned. No matter what argument I made in Thor Jr's favor, Ben was firm on his stance of absolutely not.

Ben frowns at my lack of response. "Have you forgotten about the letter he wrote you? The boy is a bad seed."

"He already apologized for that. We talked about this," I remind him. "Thor is a very angry young man, and Andor is a good influence on him. You want to take that away?"

"So your solution is to sacrifice Andor?"

"I'm not sacrificing anyone," I snap. "Look, I know you feel bad for Thor. No, don't try to argue otherwise, I see it all the time. You take it easier on him because he also lost his mother in childbirth."

Ben's mouth flatlines into pinched defiance.

"I think it's time to talk about this indoors." I watch his expression at the codeword, and despite a brief flash of worry, he quickly relents with a sigh.

"Yes," Ben agrees, "you're right. Where are we starting? Yours or mine?"

"Yours. You're the one upset." And then I follow the rules of our game and allow him to pull me into his mind.

My body shrinks down in height as my 13 year old body lands barefoot in the grass. I look around the setting he's chosen and nod in approval. At first, I was convinced Ben's agreement to not have sex again until I'm 25 was a death sentence, but over the years, we've learned to be around each other without letting our hormones get in the way of good conversation. Turns out we can talk with each other in our minds as any age we want. We've decided to take the opportunity to grow up together, starting when we're six and aging up each time we visit.

Tween me crosses her arms and frowns at tween Ben. "Look," I say in a child's voice. "I know you hate Thor, but I think I've made a lot of valid points. Any one of the people at that party could have stepped up and helped me, but Thor was one of a select few who actually protected me. Not to mention he publicly denounced his father and the entire Falcon team. That's a huge deal! Especially since his dad is so dangerous. We need to keep him safe from the bad men he's been forced to live with."

Frustrated, tween Ben crosses his arms and pouts. "I still think he's a spy!"

"Come on, we both know it's a stretch to think he could pull off being a spy. For example," I continue, "if he were a spy, then why did he confess his father wanted him to kill you? What sense would that make if he actually wanted to kill you?"

"That's your problem right there," tween Ben mumbles. "You trust people when you shouldn't."

"Like who?"

"Like me," he shouts. "People like me! I could kill you at any second, just like I killed mom. So, you should just stay away from me."

As his outburst ends, and his face enflames with embarrassment for sharing so much, I walk towards him until I'm close enough to wrap him in a hug. "You didn't kill your mom," I say. "Sometimes people just die." I keep repeating myself until he stops trying to argue and finally let's himself cry in the crook of my arm. During the few years I've been here, I've finally learned how to hug without it being uncomfortable for everyone involved. "Better?" I ask when he sniffs the last of his tears and pulls away. "Do you mind sharing why Thor's your arch nemesis?"

"Because they're the ones who tattooed me." Ben stares at the ground until he realizes I'm not going to answer because I don't know what to say. "Thor and the rest of Team Falcon are the one's who tattooed the curse on me."

No wonder he always looks uncomfortable when I wave at the Temple during games the Falcons are playing. Maybe he wouldn't be so jealous all the time if the Falcons hadn't filled his head up with lies that he was cursed. If they had just left him to mourn in peace, maybe he wouldn't be paranoid enough to feel the need to stalk me. Maybe if the Falcon's had left him alone, he'd be a little less sad.

Maybe the Falcons need to be taught a lesson.

"Hey, are you okay? Cora?"

I open my mouth to respond, but it is not my usual voice that comes out.

SHOW ME

Ben wipes his face dry, looking hopeful. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

SHOW ME WHERE THEY ARE

Needing no other encouragement, Ben hurries over to show me the door, and I burst through with a righteous vengeance. A teenage Thor has his foot on a much younger Ben as Team Falcon stabs him over and over with the razor-sharp bones they use to tattoo.

This is what quells the leftover fear of being a 13 year old girl surrounded by five teenage boys. Not only was Ben outnumbered, he was outnumbered by much older boys.

I HATE COWARDS

"Who in the hells are you?" Thor asks, but I can hear the fear in his question.

GIVE ME YOUR TEETH

All the muscles in the world are no match for a goddess' magic. I hold the boys down and rip out each and every tooth until I have a messy little pile and the young men have run off with their hands pressed tight against their bloody gums.

IM SORRY YOU HAD TO SEE ME LIKE THAT

"Are you kidding?" Ben doesn't look afraid of me at all. "That was awesome! You're seriously the coolest person I know."

REALLY?

"Yeah. Usually, I don't understand people's rules. But I like your rules. Especially the one about not hurting kids. That's a good one."

I THINK SO TOO!

HEY, WHERE IS GAIL? I THOUGHT YOU SAID SHE WAS WATCHING YOU GET TATTOOED?

"Oh, uh." Tween Ben hunkers down, nervously coiled, like he's afraid I'm about to hit him. "I'm sorry, but I may have. . . uh, lied."

IM NOT GOING TO HURT YOU, I JUST WANT THE TRUTH

"I kinda just said that so you'd be mad at her. If she knew what was happening, she would have stopped it. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have lied."

THANK YOU FOR ADMITTING THE TRUTH

"You're not mad?" Ben turns to me, his eyes wide with adoration as he whispers, "Can we be best friends?"

I THOUGHT WE ALREADY WERE?

Tween Ben squeaks in excitement, clears his throat, and tries to compose himself. "Cool."

1 Year Later

The Island, 2008

"We're not killing Finn," Ben whispers sharply.

"Why not?"

"Well, for starters, Alex would never forgive us."

"But—"

"I'm not killing a Bear." Ben finishes straightening his bowtie in the bathroom mirror and turns to stare me down with a scowl that somehow manages to look disappointed. "That goes against all sense of law and order. I do not condone chaos."

"But what if Finn is the reason she dies?" I glance towards Alex's bedroom where she and her bridesmaids are giggling about something. "What if he gets her pregnant? I thought you said her prophecy was to die in childbirth?"

"The future can change." Ben pulls a stray hair off his suit, sighing. "You're proof enough of that."

Fine. He doesn't want to take this seriously? Then I will.

Weddings are supposed to be a celebration of two lives becoming one, but Alex's wedding feels like a funeral. I rap my knuckles against her bedroom door twice before they tell me to come in. "Girls," I say, "could I please have a moment alone with Alex?" After Hazel, Flora, Fauna, Pippin, and three other girls have cleared out, I close the door behind them, sit next to Alex on her childhood bed, and take both her hands in mine, "So," I ask her in an excited voice, "are you excited to be a married woman?"

Alex only nods.

"You okay?"

"Yes," she answers. "Well, maybe a little nervous."

"That's okay. Do you want to talk about it?"

Alex opens her mouth, pauses, and rethinks her question.

"Hey," I whisper. "You can ask me anything. No judgement. You don't need to be embarrassed."

"What's it like?" Her question comes out in a shaky whisper. "Sex?"

I take Alex's trembling fingers in my own. "What about it has you afraid?"

She's panicking about everything. I can see it in her eyes.

I ask, "Do you love him?"

"Yes, of course."

"Do you trust him?"

"Yes."

"Then that's enough," I explain, and she seems to accept this lesson far faster than I ever did. "Want some advice? Don't be afraid to talk to him. You know. . . during. It's good to talk about what you like, and especially what you don't like. Be vocal if you don't like something. It's only ever perfect when you're both enjoying it." I take in a shaking breath, but it's no use. It's as if I'm marrying off my sisters to a stranger. "Do you really trust him?" My question comes out in a croaking sob. Alex nods, but this only makes me cry harder. "I'm so happy for you. I'm sorry. Look at me, a sobbing mess."

Alex laughs and hands me a tissue.

Tell her. She has a right to know. "Listen, Alex. . . you're young. You have your whole life to make babies. You should be focusing on each other for now. Just you and Finn. No wailing babies or screaming toddlers. Just you and him."

"For how long?"

"For however long you need. A few more years, at least."

"You think so?"

Please don't ever have babies, Alex. "I need to tell you something."

Everything comes rushing out, like I'm trying to beat a ticking clock. I pretend the prophecy Ben told me was actually a dream I had about her. I tell her having a child would be a great physical risk, and that if she still wanted to have a baby, she would need to be monitored practically 24/7. I tell her about birth control and make her promise to be diligent in its usage until she's at least a little older.

And then I've done all I can do, and I'm forced to let go of her hand and watch her walk out of the house and into her new life.

"Thank you for letting me stay here tonight." Yawning, I close Ben's front door behind us, cutting short the sound of instruments and chatter out in the courtyard. "Alex is already peacefully asleep, and I really did not want to wake up in the grass this morning."

"My pleasure." Ben smiles at me, and I smile at him, and we smile at each other until he says, "You can take Alex's room. It's fairly empty now that she's moved out, but it has clean sheets."

"Thank you," I call, already halfway down the hallway, but I stop in the doorway.

Ben walks up behind me, but I don't turn to look at him. "Cora," he asks. "Is something wrong?"

"No? Maybe." My eyes dart from Alex's artwork taped to the wall, to her stuffed animal collection, to a bottle of extra sparkly nail polish left out on her nightstand, and a blackhole forms in my chest. "It's stupid."

"I'm sure it's not."

An old knitted sock we used to use as a hand puppet, discarded under her bed. A dent in the hardwood flooring where I accidentally dropped a parry knife one night after we snuck to the kitchen for a late night snack, and I narrowly missed stabbing my foot. Her collection of boyband CDs we'd blast at full volume on a summers day, with the window wide open, and a nice cool breeze blowing the curtains as wildly as it blew our hair. I look at what remains of her room. All of her most treasured items have been moved to her new permeant house on Hydra. A house Finn built for her with his bare hands.

"I just. . ." Alex is so happy. Finn is perfect for her, and I trust him because Ben trusts him. But if Alex is happy, then why do I feel so miserable? If Alex is just a few minutes walk from the longhouse, then why does it feel like I've lost her forever? I inhale deeply through my nose, but it doesn't help calm me down. "I just thought I'd have more time."

Ben's voice is measured but curious. "For what?"

"To keep things exactly as they were," I whisper, as if this can stop the truth from unfolding before my eyes. "But now her bedroom's vacant, and we don't have sleepovers on Hydra anymore, and I just wish. . . I wish I had known how fast time would pass."

Coming home after a long day used to be filled with giggles and inside jokes and experimenting with makeup and manicures and music lessons and gossip. Ever since Alex got engaged, I come home to nothing but the roar of a fireplace. It's as if the springtime of girlhood has changed seasons forever, and I'll never be able to experience it in it's purest form ever again.

I was always going to lose her, just like how I was always going to lose my sisters. It was only a matter of time before they grew up and started families of their own and forgot all about me. "I just thought we'd have more time to be girls together." It takes a second to realize how drained with grief I am. One moment I'm forcing a smile, and the next moment I'm mourning in deep, choking sobs. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so sad. Can we get out of here?"

"Do you want to go back to the wedding?"

"No," I beg. "Please, no."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere," I sob miserably. "Anywhere but here."

Smoke from the campfire billows upwards and drifts down the cliffside, towards the ocean in the distance. Ben's picked a beautiful spot to stargaze, and it makes my chest hurt even more as I think about all the things I wanted to do in life but didn't.

If I could do it all over again, I'd travel the world. Hell, I never even got the chance to leave America. I would have settled for a quick trip across the border to Mexico or Canada, but you have to have money to travel, and money is the one thing I never seemed to have enough of.

I tilt my head back and marvel at how crisp and bright the stars are. "Do you know anything about constellations?"

Ben sits beside me on a log, watching the fire. "I know most of them. Why?"

"I never had an opportunity to see them for myself." I poke at the flames with a stick, unsure of what to say. "Too much light pollution in LA, and it wasn't any better in New York." As much as I'd love to lay in the grass beside him and let him point out every constellation he knows, I'm too melancholy to think of romance right now. In fact, thinking of romance makes me panic. "Ben?"

"Hm?"

He's calm, so should I be calm? Alex is his daughter. I'm just her friend. "What if we picked wrong," I blurt out. "What if we gave our blessing, and it turns out Finn's a maniac? What if we don't actually know him at all, and we just gave our blessing to a maniac?"

Ben looks over at me, and I can tell he's had the same thought at least once. "Alex is going to be fine. She's safe with him."

"If Finn ever hurts her, I swear I'll—"

"Cora," he interrupts. "You'd never get to him before I do. Your single kill in this life was impressive, but I'm more experienced at disposing of bodies. Which," he adds with a stern look in my direction, "is irrelevant, because nothing is going to happen to her."

"You've watched over Finn his entire life." I pray that Ben understands how badly I need confirmation. "Do you trust him?"

"Alex is my pride and joy. There wouldn't be a wedding if I didn't trust Finn." Ben chuckles lowly and pokes at the fire. "There wouldn't be a Finn if I didn't trust Finn."

"Okay," I sigh in relief, satisfied at last. Ben offers his hand, and I squeeze it tight. "Okay."

Orange in the most breathtaking shade finally crests on the horizon. It's so beautiful, I find myself standing without meaning to, releasing Ben's hand and taking one, then two steps towards it, like a moth to flame. It only becomes more mesmerizing as the sun rises higher and bathes the ocean and grass and my dress in sunlight.

Getting older and watching everyone around you change doesn't have to be scary. Alex won't live in the longhouse anymore, but she still lives on Hydra. Alex, Hazel, and I were girls together, but there's nothing stopping us from being equally happy women together.

"Wow." I sniffle in an attempt to stop crying. "I've never actually watched the sun rise before."

"Never?"

"I'm not a morning person." I turn to show Ben how happy I am, and say, "But I think I finally get the hype."

You have absolutely no idea that you only get sexier with age. I'd tell him to shred this thing off my body if I didn't like my dress so much. But I really like this dress, so I keep my mouth shut and think about all the things I want him to do to me.

"There." Ben sets aside black ink and a paintbrush and holds up a mirror to show me his work. The decorative lines and patterns Gail used to paint were okay, but it's obvious Ben is an artist in comparison. "Finished," he says with an air of pride. "How does it look?"

"You can never tell her I said this, but this is so much better than Gail's."

"Of course it's better than Gail's," he says, laughing. "Let it dry a few minutes before you touch your face. Otherwise, go on up. Your adoring fans await."

Im addicted to the rush of knowing I'm finally happy. I've found a way to protect women from men, while still allowing them to have loving relationships with one another. I've not stripped men of anything other than excuses to be a bad person. So when I step up to the balcony and wave as the rush of the crowd reverberates throughout my body and rattles my bones, I finally understand.

I'm never more powerful than when men are more afraid of me than I'm afraid of them.

A group of boys wave at me as one bouncing huddle. I laugh at how cute they are now that they're not afraid of giving their friends physical affection. In fact, everyone in the crowd seems so much happier, and it fills me with what feels like power. Team Boar are playing the Falcon's in todays match, and when Team Boar collectively throws me a kiss, I throw an exaggerated one back. Suddenly, the crowd grows even louder with cheers, so I throw the entire audience mwah's.

"Okay," says Ben. "Okay," he repeats a little louder. "You think that's enough?"

I stop blowing the crowd kisses and frown at him. "Why are you ruining this? Leave me alone."

Ben, looking more and more irritated by the second, grabs my hand. His voice is suddenly in my mind. Can you please stop doing that? The Falcons are playing today.

Doing what? I'm not doing anything.

Are you trying to start a fight? Congratulations. You win. Can you please stop blowing their team kisses?

Let go of me!

I feel death wafting off him. Dry, cold air chokes my lungs as the world stills. A door appears from within his mind and I run towards it for no other reason than to separate myself from this terrifying sensation. But as I reach for the handle, Ben abruptly pulls his hand out of mine and severs the magic.

Looking slightly stunned, Ben blinks rapidly and takes a step back. Instead of fighting, he plops down in the seat next to my throne. I know he's actually angry because his nose is twitching like a rabbit.

"Hold on," I ask, "are you actually jealous?" At first I'm angry, then I surge with relief when I realize how easy it will be to explain he has nothing to worry about. Turning away from the crowd, I sit on my throne next his chair and say, "Ben, come on. I'm completely covered in your jewelry. Everyone knows I'm yours. Am I supposed to stop waving at people because there's a possibility Team Falcon is among them? You know I hate them just as much as you do, so why do you think I'm blowing any of those assholes kisses? I'm giving affection to everyone except the Falcons. If I want to keep on everyone's good side, they have to believe I adore them as much as they adore me. Besides, I give mwah's to newborns. Baby's sometimes give them back. It's a completely exaggerated and platonic gesture of affection. In fact," I add, narrowing my eyes at a sudden thought, "anyone who finds that sexual kinda creeps me out."

I brace to defend myself further, but he looks horrified at the thought and says, "No, that's a good point. I'm sorry."

Ben's remorse mixes with sadness, and I realize he's still upset. "Hey," I offer shyly, gently nudging his shoulder with my elbow. "Let's have dinner in my room tonight so we can talk about this. For now, get up and explain to me how the hell this sport works."

Tween Ben has aged to that of a 16 year old with a greater handle on words and absolutely no handle on his frequent erections. "Cora," he begins, but he has to sit and place a pillow in his lap. "I've been angry and short tempered lately and it isn't your fault, and I'm very sorry you got caught in the crossfire."

"Thanks." I sit next to him and pretend to ignore the fact that the pillow in his lap twitches every once in a while. "The memory door I saw earlier. . . the one you didn't want to show me? Was it the memory of your tattoo?"

Ben nods miserably, and I surge with a dangerous calm.

He looks so sad. How can I make him less sad? "Want me to break their kneecaps?" There is no sweeter prize than making him laugh. Ben is usually so guarded with others, it's a treat all its own than he feels so comfortable around me. "I'll do it, free of charge."

"I appreciate the offer."

"So," I begin when he falls silent, "What's wrong?"

"I'm just. . . I don't know." Ben shakes his head in frustration, lifting one shoulder up in a shrug. "Worried? That my best days are behind me? And I only have a little time left before I die and get sent to Folkvangr." Ben perks up, his glasses sliding down his nose until he swipes them back into position. "In which you will dutifully visit me. . . for approximately 3 years, after which you will lessen your visits to once a year, and then forget to visit for a year or two or three, until you've forgotten all about me, and I've merely forgotten the sound of your voice."

I stare at him in silence. "Wow, that's messed up."

"Huh?"

"You really think I'd abandon you in the afterlife? That's. . . that's really mean. I thought we were friends."

Looking panicked, Ben sits up. "We are friends!"

"Friends trust each other, and it doesn't sound like you trust me very much if you think I'm going to ditch you in the afterlife."

"Yeah?" Ben counters weakly. "Well, you're one to talk."

My face contorts into a snarl before I can stop myself. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You've already abandoned me once, what's one more time?"

Dread pools in the pit of my stomach, but it ignites into anger the more I think about it. "I didn't abandon you," I snap back. "I died."

"You weren't supposed to die," he says, tossing the accusation like a grenade.

As he continues ranting, I realize we're talking about something much more complicated than I'm prepared for.

"I was supposed to save you like you saved your mom," he says. "I was supposed to save you, and then you'd think I was the best mortal man in the whole world and we'd get married and have eight children and nobody would ever hurt us again!" Ben's immediate burst of childlike excitement condenses into an intense stare as he starts speaking at a speed I didn't previously think possible. "You know how when you first got here I was always so tired? It's because I spent every waking second watching over you since the first night of the crash. I was always hiding just out of sight, and even Liv wasn't aware I was there. You saw her, though, right? At least I think you did. She's never really been the best at concealment." I must look stunned because he starts to sound nervous. "I mean, in the end, I was right to watch over you. The only times I wasn't stalking your every moment just conveniently became the time you were poisoned, the afternoon you were shot at, and the night you were attacked? Coincidences are not a thing. I should have been watching you." His voice rises with panic as he continues his attempt to convince me. "You never would have been attacked if I was watching over you. I would have killed Matt before he got to you. Or Alex. But I didn't, because I was too tired to come up with another excuse for Alex to start making dinner without me, and I felt like I was a bad father being away from home so much, so I eased up." As if just now realizing his point, Ben's eyes plead with me to understand. "And look what happened! Matt was my assignment! I was supposed to vet him! It was my responsibility to make sure my community was safe, and I failed you, and I failed Alex, and I'm so sorry!"

A part of me always thought I'd be comforted by meeting someone who understands what a childhood under extreme duress feels like, but as I watch Ben spiral into anxiety about the night I was attacked, I realize he thinks he's right. Ben honestly believes the only way to keep me safe is to watch me at all hours of the day and night. But that's not realistic, and as flattered as I am to hear he values my safety, I also recognize that this isn't fair to him.

"If Alex had been alone," I explain, "Matt would have dumped her body south of the Temple." Ben's face twists with rage and disgust, so I continue with, "But she wasn't alone. I changed the future to save her, and in return, she saved me. Alone, we both would have died, but you raised a strong woman who saved me when I couldn't save myself."

Ben nods with a nervous twitch, blinking one too many times. "Thank you," he whispers. "That really means a lot."

"Uh, so can you elaborate on the thing about you stalking me since the day of the crash?"

To his credit, Ben does look remorseful and ashamed. "I realized what I was doing was wrong after I found myself trapped under your bed while you were getting ready for Poppy's wedding dinner. I didn't watch while you were changing," he promises in a panic. "But, I'll admit, as soon as I closed my eyes, it got me to start rethinking the entire stalking operation, and then when you and Gail finally left, I snuck out to the party and asked my team what to do and they got really mad at me. I understand now that what I did was wrong, and I'm sorry."

If he was really watching my every move, then something doesn't match up. I don't want to scare him off by thinking I'm angry, so I fall into a lazy smile and bat my lashes. "Were you following me when Richard and Erik took me to visit Jacob?"

You'd think I'd force-fed him a truth serum. "Naturally," he admits freely.

Gottcha. "Then why did you wake me up in the middle of the night and pretend you didn't know where Margo's body was?"

Tween Ben moves only his eyes, darting them off to the side and then back to me as he thinks.

"Please don't make me ask again," I beg.

"Because," he confesses in an exhausted rush, "as I've admitted in the past, I've never been very good with grief. My friend was dead, I was hurting, and I needed someone to blame." I can tell he's more nervous than usual because he can't seem to stop shaking his head and sighing. "Sometimes good command decisions get compromised by bad emotional responses."

I nod because I understand. "I'm very sorry about Margo."

"Thank you. And thanks again for. . . you know. Understanding. Or, at the least, hearing me out." Tween Ben pulls his knees up to his chest as his sad expression softens with affection. "I really like that about you. I feel like we can talk about anything."

"What do you want to talk about?"

Ben shrinks a little in embarrassment. "I'd prefer to move on from the stalking fiasco."

I should be creeped out, right? Am I supposed to be creeped out? "You totally could have killed me."

"What?"

"You're so quiet, I never even suspected anything. I'm just saying, you totally could have creeped up and killed me at any point, but you didn't." And that's so hot.

"It would have been so easy," he confirms. "But I'd never hurt you."

"Can I ask you something?" I've barely asked the question before Ben starts jerking his head in an eager nod. "What were you and Team Bear laughing about at Poppy's engagement dinner?"

"Oh." Tween Ben gives a nervous huff of laughter and reaches a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. "They were taking bets."

"On what?"

"On how long it would take before I annoyed you so much you permanently banned me from visiting Hydra. That was of course after they tore me a new one about stalking you. Hey," he says, and I realize I'm frowning. "I wasn't trying to pry into your personal space, I just wanted to see you. I mean, I've been waiting 28 years to see you again and then when the crash happened it was nothing but confusion because Seer Helga said you'd return on the wings of a giant flaming bird—" He takes a quick breath and continues with the same speed as before. "And in hindsight I probably should have deduced she meant plane, but deities walk amongst us so for all I knew it very well could have been a literal flaming bird. But that's besides the point. The point is, I let Gail call all the shots in the beginning only because it freed up my time to watch over you. I just got you back and I didn't want you to go away again."

Darkness creeps in as silence washes over the conversation, so I'm confused to see his mouth moving. As I blink at him, I notice Teen Ben's still trying to tell me something, but I can't hear him over the ringing in my ears. Ringing turns into the echoes of a pop song, but I remember everything I've worked on with Harper and force myself to focus on staying in the present. I come back just in time to hear Ben scream so loud his voice cracks.

"I swear I didn't kill you!"

"I know," I whisper. "I believe you."

Whatever shred of emotional reservation he's been clinging to is gone, and he unleashes what feels like a lifetime of sadness all in one choking wail after the next. "Then why don't you trust me?"

How am I supposed to fix this? I don't know how to fix this. I wish my mom were here to help. I wish my mom were here and she didn't hate me. I wish I had a different mom. I wish everything in my life had been different.

But I am here. And that was my life. And there's no going back to fix it. All I can do now is make sure I don't make the same mistakes as my parents. All I can do now is use them as a warning.

I've never been great at deescalation, so I fall back into old habits and turn on the persona I use when taking care of my siblings. "Of course I trust you, silly! Hey, why don't we share more secrets? You love sharing secrets! I'll go first. My hobbies include reading, cooking, and drawing."

"I didn't know you were an artist," Ben says with a delightful spark in his eyes. "Let's draw each other something. Want to?"

"Sure!" Paper and pencils materialize in our mind, and we begin working in concentrated scribbles.

"Done," Ben announces.

I finish shading the sketch of an animal and hold the paper tight to my chest. "You go first."

Ben pauses nervously before he flips around his paper, and I feel physically ill. He's drawn me with attention to detail and impeccable technique. All ten of my fingers claw into my own paper to keep him from seeing it.

"Wow," I say at last. "Yours is so good."

"Thanks!" Ben's entire body sags a little with relief at the praise. "Can I see yours?"

"Uh, no. Sorry. It's really bad," I add when his eyes fill with sadness.

"Come on," he urges. "I'm sure it's great. Please let me see?"

Back home, not even my own thoughts were private. I stopped keeping a diary the day my dad snatched mine out of my hands and drunkedly read aloud passages to the entire family at dinner. All I have ever known is ridicule, but Ben has never once laughed at me, so I stare holes in the floor and show him the drawing.

"Oh," he says in one long breath. "It's a. . . this is a really nice fish."

"It's a frog."

"Oh! Yes. Sorry, I see it now. Yes, yes, there's the long legs. I see it now."

Teen Ben may not be the best with social cues, but he's great at thinking quick about ways to make me happy. As I watch him point out bits of the drawing and praising it for art terms I'm not familiar with, I feel like a blackhole has opened up inside me and stolen my soul.

"What happened?" Ben doesn't seem to know what to do now that I'm crying. "I thought we were having fun?"

I wipe my face dry and say, "I was."

"Then why are you sad?"

Christopher exists because he was always going to exist. But that means I don't have a choice. I have to birth him. But maybe I don't want kids? Maybe I'm sick and tired of being trapped in a role I never asked for in the first place. Maybe if I have Christopher, I'll hate him like my mother hated me. "Do you think I'm going to be a bad mother?"

"What? No! You're great with kids."

"I wish people would stop saying that," I scream, and Ben's face morphs from surprise to the blankness that comes when he's entirely focused on trying to understand the situation. "My mom was depressed even before she gave birth to my sisters, so her postpartum meant she wouldn't even get out of bed most days. I was the one cooking and cleaning. I was the one who had to figure out how to set an alarm clock so I could walk myself to school in the morning. I was bottle feeding babies since I was six years old." I'm spiraling into some kind of mania, where I'm terrified to tell him all this, but I'm even more terrified to keep it inside and allow it to continue eating me alive. "You think I wanted to burp them and bathe them and change their diapers as soon as I got home from elementary school? I was six! There were a millionthings I'd rather have been doing! I only became their mother because they were small and helpless and I didn't want them to die! I'd be a better artist if I had the chance to practice, but with what time was I supposed to practice? I've been in survival mode for as long as I've been sentient!"

"I can teach you how to draw," Ben offers, but he doesn't understand. I'm not mourning the chance to become an artist, I'm mourning the lost potential of my entire life.

I'm trying to keep my body from wracking with sobs but I'm at war with my own mind. Half of me wants the world to know how angry I am, and the other half feels guilty for feeling this way. It wasn't my siblings fault we were born into this family. It's not their fault our dad was worthless and our mother was depressed. But it also wasn't my fault, and I never should have been the solution to their lack of parenting. "I'm tired of taking care of people. I'm tired of being the island babysitter. I'm tired of—" I suck in a shaky breath in an attempt to get my nerves under control. "I'm just so tired, Ben."

Ben opens his arms in offering, and I walk over to accept. "Then take a break," he suggests.

"Ugh." I laugh and push him away. "Spoken like a mortal man."

Ben holds a hand to his heart. "Guilty as charged."

His laughter calms me down enough to confide in him what my real issue is. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"I am honored any and every time you tell me a secret."

"Promise you won't be angry?"

"Promise."

"What if I don't ever want kids?"

Ben's answer mixes with a laugh. "Then don't have kids."

"You would be okay with that?"

Ben fixes me with a confused stare. "I don't have any real say in this. You're the one who has to grow it."

Unfiltered love pools out of me in waves of light, and Teen Ben perks up at the realization that I do, in fact, love him. Almost immediately, he collapses and convulses with magic like he did the night I was Goddess of Life. I didn't know I could be more than one Goddess at a time. I must have been both Life and Love that night, and falling in love with him is what sent him into the future. Is that where he is now? I spring into action and kneel beside him, reaching out to pull him into my lap.

I blink and I'm in an unfamiliar house.

"Cora? You're here!" Teen Ben hurries over and hugs me. "Do you see? This is the afterlife! Isn't it great? Look! It's us!"

I follow Teen Ben's finger to find Roger seated at a small dining table, middle aged Ben seated to his right and middle aged me seated to his left. Intrigued, I step closer and study the lines and cracks near Afterlife Cora's eyes and lips. Aging is death, and seeing myself aged brings an unfamiliar fear up into my throat. Ben may not be afraid of death, but I think I may be.

Afterlife Cora cheerfully asks Afterlife Ben to help her with something in the kitchen, so I trail behind them because the alternative is staring at Afterlife Roger as he mindlessly watches TV.

I wonder if Ben is still a teacher in the afterlife. I wonder what I am.

Instead of checking on the food like they said, Afterlife Cora and Afterlife Ben slowly move closer together, and then they start aggressively making out by the kitchen sink. A secret part of me wants to watch, but everything is ruined when I start focusing on how my older body bounces and wiggles under his eager hands.

Looking away in shame, I notice Teen Ben is staring at our afterlife selves like he's studying for an exam. Even more embarrassed than before, I swat his shoulder.

"Ow," he complains. "What was that for?"

"Aren't you embarrassed?"

"What for?"

I bring up a hand to shield our afterlife selves from my view. "We shouldn't be watching this. It's weird."

"How is this weird? It's us." Teen Ben thinks of something and laughs. "Is this part of the Catholic thing?"

"Yes," I snap. "This is part of the Catholic thing."

A sharp beep of the oven timer snaps our afterlife selves out of the moment. I watch as they straighten their clothing, retrieve the food from the oven, and march back into the dining room to serve Afterlife Roger.

"This is the best day of my life," Teen Ben whispers beside me. "We're lovers in the afterlife! I get you all to myself in the afterlife! I literally die happy!"

I bring a hand up to stifle the giggle that explodes out of me when he starts hopping around in some kind of victory jig.

CORA?

All of the clatter and chatter in the dinning room clips itself short, so the only sound I hear is a voice as soft as a whisper.

CORA?

As I stare at the back of my own head at the dinner table, I recognize the voice as mine. Afterlife Cora somehow knows I'm here, and now she's talking to herself. Wait, Afterlife Cora is dead, so maybe she has the answers I need to change the future! If she's already died for good, maybe she can tell me who's responsible and I can stop it from happening! Before I have a chance to think of smart questions to ask myself, I freeze so completely I stop breathing.

A monster cosplaying as me turns its neck, continuing to swivel even after the point of no return, after the bones begin to crack a warning and then snap loudly in protest. I watch as the copy of myself at the table spins her head all the way around to show off a combination of Goddesses I've yet to experiment with. Goddess of War and Death flashes me a wide-eyed smile that stretches into something it's not. No matter how much this thing smiles, I could never be comforted by something currently fueled by everything except love.

War and Death are a cocktail of fear and despair that unlocks it's jaw like a snake and bellows out a warning:

YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!