I had never noticed how much world there was around me. Not too much of it mattered, but it was still fun to feel the breeze ruffle through my hair, carrying the sweet sea mist up to me. My mother and father were pressed close against me, and my brothers, too. They squirmed in their small, hidden home like they knew big things were happening and wanted to see.

Too bad! It wasn't their turn yet.

Mama's eyes were sparkly, both sad and happy. That was normal for her, but it bothered me. It bothered Papa, too, but he was too nice to say anything.

I raised one hand and smacked the palm against my Mama's cheek, making her laugh.

"Spunky little princess," Mama cooed as if what I'd done made her proud. So I did it again.

"Just like her mother." Papa's voice was softer like any second he'd start crying. For as long as I'd known him, that was also kind of normal.

I looked up at him. Did he need smacking, too?

Papa's face broke out in a huge smile, and he shook his head. "Oh, no, I don't need to face the wrath of the great and mighty Harmonia," he said while laughter hid at the bottom of his words.

Mama's hand curled around my head like a hat. "She's our lovely immortal princess, and nobody can ever hurt her." She was proud of me as if I'd done something. All I did was drink that mean lady's juice.

"One down, three to go," Papa wrapped his giant arms around Mama and me. And my brothers, too, but we couldn't see them. "I'm so... irritated..." Papa admitted.

"Nothing has changed on that front," Mama said in that too-calm voice, which meant she was sad but thought she was hiding it. "They still expect me to earn it, and that was Moni's inheritance."

"It was mine, too, but Father didn't let me have it," Hercules growled. "I'm glad he didn't, but that excuse doesn't work. Moni needed to be immortal before she was born. You did, too. You never should've had to be vulnerable to Hades through that whole experience."

"Perhaps suffering is part of my Telos," Mama suggested.

I made a noise to show I didn't like that, and both my parents looked at me like what I said didn't make sense. I thought I'd been pretty clear. It would've been nice if I could talk.

Why couldn't I talk?

"You are not defined by suffering," Papa said stubbornly. "You're defined by your wit, charm, intelligence, gorgeousness, and how you always give your all to the people around you."

"That's a really long definition."

"There are lots of reasons you're the best," Papa replied, now pouting.

Once I started pouting like him, both my parents laughed. That flow of happiness was fast, but it was a relief to all of us.

The sadness took over again, like it always did, no matter what I did.

That was the most frustrating thing for me. Why couldn't I do better? If I were older, I could tell them what I was thinking and how upset I got when the sadness came back, even after I worked so hard to get rid of it.

"We've annoyed the little princess," Mama told Papa, and then she took a long, deep breath, closing her eyes.

"Meg?" Papa asked, full of worry.

I patted her face again, making her smile even though she was still tired.

"I'm fine, the boys are pushing on my lungs…" Mama tried to smile again, but Papa and I knew better. She always liked to pretend stuff wasn't difficult for her.

I'd never noticed it so much, but my new mind flipped through memories that hadn't been so clear the first time. Suddenly, it all made so much sense. Mama did lots of hard stuff and pretended it was easy like Papa did hard stuff that was actually easy. I wanted to be like Papa because even Mama didn't like being like herself.

Feeling and understanding so much more wasn't what I wanted, but now that I had it, that knowing was part of me. I felt almost like a different person who'd seen everything that happened to me since I gained consciousness— it was only a little over a year, after all, not too much to remember– and it was more than anyone else got to have.

Part of me knew I was safe from the man with the glowing eyes, the one who frightened my parents. But I knew just as deeply that my Mama wasn't. She was actually in lots of danger, and I had to help her.

"What are you thinking with that brilliant mind, Moni?" Mama cooed at me.

"Don't ask her questions like that, Meg. Baby gods grow up too fast. She'll try and answer you."

I tilted my head at Papa. Could I answer?

He was right. I wanted to.

Mama made a face at Papa. "She heard you say that, you know."

Papa smacked his forehead. Then his big hand trailed down his whole face. "I'm sorry, Meg, I didn't mean to make our baby think about–"

Mama put a hand up. "I know what you're apologizing for, but if you say it out loud, her little ears will hear."

My ears were little, but my brain wasn't that small. Why were they afraid of me getting bigger or smarter, though? I wished I could ask these questions. It was starting to get annoying how little I could say. Before I drank the juice, I wasn't usually bothered. But it was getting really, extremely irritating!

"Shh," Mama said, pulling me closer to her face and pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'm sorry. Are we upsetting you?"

No, I wanted to tell her. It wasn't her that bothered me. Papa was fine, too. I wanted to say that I was just upset I couldn't say more, but I didn't have words. All I could do was go red in the face while I got more frustrated.

My papa's hand wrapped around my back, comforting and warm. "Moni, you don't have to be upset. We're here for you, and we love you."

Neither of them could hide how much they loved me. I felt that too easily. It was obvious on both of their faces.

"You're such a lovely, sweet girl," Mama told me. "I'm sure when you get older, you'll be able to say anything on your mind, and you'll make everyone understand you. But there's no reason to rush that. Grow up in your own time."

My own time. Well, who got to choose what my time was? If it was my time, couldn't I pick it for myself?

Mama played softly in my hair, a small smile on her face. Her smile was soured by that sadness I could smell off her. I was used to understanding people's emotions, but her thoughts hit me, too. She kept wondering if she'd ever get to see me growing up. She wanted to hide that from Papa and me, but that wiggling, scared feeling that came off Papa's hand and against my spine was not fooled. He knew what Mama was afraid of, and the only person who didn't understand why he was afraid or why she was afraid was me!

I tilted my head at Mama and tried to understand why she thought that way. She wouldn't tell me, though, because I didn't know how to ask! Her heart was in her eyes and broken.

That was wrong. She shouldn't be. This was a good day, right? I thought it was. I had to ask her why she was so worried about not seeing me grow up. I'd have to grow up right now if she was so worried, and I'd prove her wrong!

"What are you doing?" Mama's eyes were wide, not hiding how scared she was anymore. "Moni, you shouldn't– you're still a baby, you don't have to–"

I was only a little different, but it felt great. My legs were solid under me, and my eyes were fixed on my mother's face while I searched for the words to tell her. It was frustrating to know so much but not know how to say it!

"Moni!" Papa rubbed my back. "That's time we can't get back to you! We love our little baby!"

I turned to him. He'd have to understand we always agreed on stuff. "But she didn't think I could! See? I can grow up, and she watched!"

Papa's mouth dropped open, and he made a silly noise.

Sadness rolled off my mother and hit my back with a chilly blast. I whirled toward her.

"No, no, you're not sad!" I put my hands on her face to block the tears. "Stop crying! See? I'm big now! Doesn't that make you feel better?"

Both Mama and Papa stared at me then as if I was a horrible, scary monster. I felt their horror as if I was going to get sick, and I knew they'd been scared to see me big because they liked me small.

"You need me big, right?" I asked, my voice shrinking down to almost how I'd been while the rest of me stayed the same. "Mama was scared I wouldn't get big, and now…" I looked at my mother's face, covered in tears I hadn't stopped.

"I didn't want you to miss out on years of your life just because I might have to!" Mama's voice made me cry with her.

"You're not leaving!" I shouted over both our tears.

Mama hugged me, and then Papa wrapped himself around us both. They each covered my hair and face with little kisses, and their tears went everywhere.

"Mama's staying," I said, like if I said it, I could make it happen.

"I don't want you to worry," Mama told me. "I've got to do my best. I just want you to be happy."

A spike of fear from my father jabbed through me and made my own scared feelings even worse. "We won't be happy without you," he gasped like he'd stepped on something sharp. "Please, Meg… please, you have to fight…"

"What's she fighting?" I asked. It had to all stop, and soon. I couldn't keep putting up with so much crying!

"Time… fate?" Mama suggested. "I don't have any power over…"

"We'll fight for you," I promised.

"If you want to," Mama whispered. "I'm only so tired…"

"It's time to go inside," Papa decided and scooped us into his arms. He walked back to the house, but he stopped when he saw the goat man at the back door.

The goat man's eyes were stuck to my face like he had any right to think I was the one who looked weird.

"What happened to the…?" the goat man asked, pointing right at me but looking at Papa.

"We got her ambrosia," Papa said. "She decided she didn't want to be a baby anymore. Say hello to the newest goddess."

The goat man looked from me to Mama. "And she's…"

"No," Papa said. His voice was cold and heavy, like a big rock. "We're going inside. Come on, we'll talk as a family."