Page 110 of Hades

Then Diana sat in front of me with haunted eyes and told me the truth, and every memory I’d ever trusted turned rotten in my hands.

The drive to Lettie’s house was only two miles. It felt longer that morning. Maybe because for the first time since Lucas died, I was alone with my thoughts, not surrounded by men watching me like I might shatter. Or maybe because every tree, every fence post, every stretch of road between the clubhouse and Lettie’s home looked normal. I resented it. The world had no right looking normal when mine had become unrecognizable.

I pulled into Lettie’s driveway and sat there for a moment, both hands wrapped around the steering wheel. Her house was pretty in a soft, lived-in way that had nothing to do with money and everything to do with care. Flowers spilled from beds along the front walk. A small vegetable garden sat off to the side, fenced in just enough to keep the chickens busy and out of whatever she had growing in the back. The house itself looked warm. Clean. Peaceful. The kind of place a woman could breathe if the life inside it allowed her to.

I wondered how much breathing Lettie actually did here.

Before I could talk myself into leaving, the front door opened. Cerberus stepped onto the porch first. The dog looked less like a pet and more like judgment made flesh. Solid black and enormous. Watchful. He stared at my car without barking, but there was no mistaking the warning in the set of his body.

Then Lettie appeared behind him. The dog’s entire posture shifted. Not relaxed, exactly. I wasn’t sure Cerberus ever relaxed. But he accepted her hand on his head, accepted whatever silent command passed between them, and stayed at her side instead of coming down the steps to decide whether I was a threat.

Lettie smiled when she saw me, making something in my chest ache.

She was barefoot, wearing one of those long floral skirts she always seemed to float around in and a fitted tank top that made Brock look like he was five seconds from killing any man who glanced too long. Her golden hair flowed loose down her back, catching the sunlight. For one strange second, I understood why Brock looked at her the way he did.

There was something alive about her. Something soft. Something dangerous, too—though I doubted most people noticed that part.

“Rhea,” she called, coming down the steps. “You made it.”

“I said I would.”

Her smile softened. Like she’d heard the weight beneath my words and decided not to press on the bruise. “Lunch is almost ready. I hope you like tomato basil soup.”

“I do.”

“Good. The tomatoes are from the garden. The basil too.” She glanced down at Cerberus. “And this one’s been pretending he doesn’t care that you’re here.”

Cerberus stared at me.

I lifted an eyebrow. “He has a funny way of showing it.”

Lettie laughed softly. The sound loosened something in me I hadn’t realized was clenched. “That’s Cerberus being polite.”

“Remind me not to meet him when he’s rude.”

“Oh, you’d know.”

I believed that.

She led me around the side of the house instead of through the front door. The moment we stepped past the gate into the backyard, I understood why.

The front of Lettie’s home was pretty.

The back was something else entirely.

Gardens stretched farther than I expected, layered in color and texture. Neat paths wound between vegetables, herbs, flowers, and plants I couldn’t name. Some grew tall and wild. Others had been trained carefully along trellises or tucked into raised beds. Wind chimes hung from an old oak near the porch, their soft music drifting through the warm air.

It should have been chaotic.

It wasn’t.

Everything had a place.

Everything had a purpose.

“This is beautiful,” I said.

Lettie’s face softened as she looked around. “Thank you. It keeps me busy.”