Athena sat curled on her bed, headphones loosely around her neck, humming the leftover music she had paused a minute ago. Her room looked too peaceful for the way her stomach suddenly knotted—pillows arranged gently, curtains drawn halfway, soft colors everywhere. Nothing about the room warned her that her life was about to shift.
The door opened quietly.
Her mother came in and sat beside her, the mattress dipping. Athena noticed tension flickering across her expression—eyes glassy, mouth tight, like she was holding back something sharp.
"Athena," she began.
Something in the way she said it made Athena freeze.
"Mom?"
Rowena swallowed hard, fingers knotted together as though steadying herself. "Athena… you need to leave. You and your brother. For a while."
The words didn't land—they floated awkwardly, painfully—like news arriving too early for the heart to process.
"What?" Athena frowned, confusion swirling into fear. "Leave? Why?"
Rowena reached out and held her daughter's hands. "Just listen carefully to me. I can't explain everything—but you have to go tonight."
Athena wasn't breathing properly anymore. "Mom, what is happening? Why can't we stay? What does this have to do with you and Dad?"
Her mother looked away, blinking tears. "The Blackthorn Mafia is coming after our family." The name burned through the room, through Athena's chest. "You're not safe here."
Athena felt her heartbeat crash violently. "Coming after us? Why? What did you do? What does Dad have to do with it?"
Rowena's face softened in pain. "There's no time. One day I will explain. But right now, you must leave. And if I don't see you again…"
She removed her bracelet—silver, familiar, always on her wrist—warm from her skin. She placed it gently into Athena's palm.
"…look at this. And remember me."
Athena's eyes filled immediately. Tears rolled before she even tried to stop them.
"Mom," she whispered, "promise me you'll be safe."
Rowena nodded slowly. "I promise."
But the promise sounded breakable—like something spoken only because her daughter asked.
Athena stood shakily, grabbed the bag beside her wardrobe, and shoved her laptop, phone, and charger inside. She didn't look at anything too long—her eyes would crumble if she paused.
She stepped into the hallway where her father stood waiting. Sean didn't say much; he just pulled her into a hug that made her knees wobble.
"I'll miss you, Dad," she whispered against him.
He kissed the top of her head, voice low. "Go. Stay with your brother."
Adriel appeared next, holding a bag over his shoulder. His face was pale, eyes too wide to hide his fear.
"We can't go through the main gate," he murmured. "We're taking the back path. We'll catch a bus."
Athena nodded, wiping her cheeks. "Where are we going?"
Adriel opened his mouth—
A deafening bang hit the front door.
Then another.
Hard, violent, shaking the house.
Athena's blood ran cold.
"They're here!" Rowena screamed from the hallway.
Sean didn't hesitate—he pushed the children toward the exit. "Run. Now."
Athena clutched the bracelet. Her mother's scent was still on it.
Adriel grabbed her wrist and they sprinted into the dark corridor. But Athena looked back once—just once.
Her mother was standing straight, tears streaming silently down her face.
Her lips formed words without sound:
Go.
And then the door shook again—louder, more furious—like the night itself was breaking open.
Athena turned away.
And in that moment, childhood slipped out of her grasp. Not slowly, not gently—just gone.
She ran into the night holding a bracelet
and a promise she prayed wouldn't break.