“Yes, please,” Meg said. “I love you.”

Estelle burst into a fresh peal of giggles. She had apparently just discovered that her father’s fingers could wiggle, and she considered this hilarious.

Sally smiled at her baby, then at Meg. “I love you, too, dear. Percy’s friends are always welcome.”

“I have no idea who this Percy is,” Lu protested.

“Anyone who needs help is always welcome,” Sally amended. “Believe me, we’ve been in danger before, and we’ve come through it. Right, Paul?”

“Yep,” he agreed without hesitation. “There’s plenty of food. I think Percy has some clothes that will fit, uh, is it Apollo?”

I nodded morosely. I knew all too well that Percy’s clothes would fit me, because I’d left here six months ago wearing his hand-me-downs. “Thank you, Paul.”

Lu grunted. “I suppose.…Is that lasagna I smell?”

Paul grinned. “The Blofis family recipe.”

“Hm. I suppose we could stay for a bit,” Lu decided.

The wonders never ceased. The Gaul and I actually agreed on something.

“Here, try this.” Paul tossed me a faded Percy T-shirt to go with my ratty Percy jeans.

I did not complain. The clothes were clean, warm, and dry, and after trudging underground across half of Manhattan, my old outfit smelled so bad it would have to be sealed in a hazardous waste pouch and incinerated.

I sat on Percy’s bed next to Estelle, who lay on her back, staring in fascination at a blue plastic donut.

I ran my hand across the faded words on the T-shirt: AHS SWIM TEAM. “What does AHS stand for?”

Paul wrinkled his nose. “Alternative High School. It was the only place that would take Percy for just his senior year, after…You know.”

I remembered. Percy had disappeared for the entirety of his junior year thanks to the meddling of Hera, who zapped him across the country and gave him amnesia, all for the sake of making the Greek and Roman demigod camps unite for the war with Gaea. My stepmother just loved bringing people together.

“You didn’t approve of the situation, or the school?” I asked.

Paul shrugged. He looked uncomfortable, as if saying anything negative would go against his nature.

Estelle gave me a drooling grin. “Gah?” I took this to mean Can you believe how lucky we are to be alive right now?

Paul sat next to her and gently cupped his hand over her wispy hair.

“I’m an English teacher at another high school,” he said. “AHS was…not the best. For kids who are struggling, at risk, you want a safe place with good accommodations and excellent support. You want to understand each student as an individual. Alt High was more like a holding pen for everybody who didn’t fit into the system. Percy had been through so much…I was worried about him. But he made the best of the situation. He really wanted to get that diploma. I’m proud of him.”

Estelle cooed. Paul’s eyes wrinkled around the edges. He tapped her nose. “Boop.”

The baby was stunned for a millisecond. Then she laughed with such glee I worried she might choke on her own spit.

I found myself staring in amazement at Paul and Estelle, who struck me as even greater miracles than Percy’s graduation. Paul seemed like a caring husband, a loving father, a kind stepfather. In my own experience, such a creature was harder to find than an albino unicorn or three-winged griffin.

As for baby Estelle, her good nature and sense of wonder rose to the level of superpowers. If this child grew up to be as perceptive and charismatic as she appeared to be now, she would rule the world. I decided not to tell Zeus about her.

“Paul…” I ventured. “Aren’t you worried about having us here? We might endanger your family.”

The corners of his mouth tightened. “I was at the Battle of Manhattan. I’ve heard about some of the horrible things Sally went through—fighting the Minotaur, being imprisoned in the Underworld. And Percy’s adventures?” He shook his head in respect. “Percy has put himself on the line for us, for his friends, for the world, plenty of times. So, can I risk giving you a place to catch your breath, some fresh clothes, and a hot meal? Yeah, how could I not?”

“You are a good man, Paul Blofis.”

He tilted his head, as if wondering what other kind of man anyone would possibly try to be. “Well, I’ll leave you to get cleaned up and dressed. We don’t want dinner to get burned, do we, Estelle?”

The baby went into a fit of giggles as her father scooped her up and carried her out of the room.

I took my time in the shower. I needed a good scrubbing, yes. But mostly I needed to stand with my forehead against the tiles, shaking and weeping until I felt like I could face other people again.

What was it about kindness? In my time as Lester Papadopoulos, I had learned to stand up under horrendous verbal abuse and constant life-threatening violence, but the smallest act of generosity could ninja-kick me right in the heart and break me into a blubbering mess of emotions.

Darn you, Paul and Sally, and your cute baby, too!

How could I repay them for providing me this temporary refuge? I felt like I owed them the same thing I owed Camp Jupiter and Camp Half-Blood, the Waystation and the Cistern, Piper and Frank and Hazel and Leo and, yes, especially Jason Grace. I owed them everything.

How could I not?

Once I was dressed, I staggered out to the dining area. Everyone was seated around the table except Estelle, who Paul informed me was down for the night. No doubt all that pure joy required a great amount of energy.

Meg wore a new pink smock dress and white leggings. If she cherished these as much as the last outfit Sally had given her, she would end up wearing them until they fell off her body in burned-and-shredded rags. Together with her red high-tops—which thankfully had been well cleaned—she sported a Valentine’s Day color theme that seemed quite out of character, unless you considered her sweetheart to be the mountain of garlic bread she was shoveling into her mouth.

Lu was dressed in an XXL men’s work shirt with ELECTRONICS MEGA-MART stitched over the pocket. She wore a fluffy turquoise towel around her waist like a kilt, because, she informed me, the only other pants in the apartment large enough to fit her were Sally’s old maternity pants and, no thank you, Lu would just wait for hers to get out of the dryer.

Sally and Paul provided us with heaping plates of salad, lasagna, and garlic bread. It wasn’t Sally’s famous seven-layer dip, but it was a family-style feast like I hadn’t experienced since the Waystation. That memory gave me a twinge of melancholy. I wondered how everyone there was doing: Leo, Calypso, Emmie, Jo, little Georgina.…At the time, our trials in Indianapolis had felt like a nightmare, but in retrospect they seemed like happier, simpler days.

Sally Jackson sat down and smiled. “Well, this is nice.” Shockingly, she sounded sincere. “We don’t have guests often. Now, let’s eat, and you can tell us who or what is trying to kill you this time.”

I WISHED WE COULD HAVE HAD REGULAR small talk around the dinner table: the weather, who liked whom at school, which gods were casting plagues on which cities and why. But no, it was always about who was trying to kill me.

I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s appetite, especially since Paul’s savory family-recipe lasagna was making me drool like Estelle. Also, I wasn’t sure I trusted Luguselwa enough to share our whole story.