P. Hoover - Solstice

There’s a panel open, and one of the workers is guiding a sand truck that’s dumping into it. My mom told me they use sand to help grow the glass in the dome, but I thought the domes needed time to recharge. I walk up to the nearest worker and tap him on the shoulder. He turns around to face me.

“What’s going on?” I ask. From above, tiny drops of rain begin to fall down. They’re heavy and sparse, and I can see each drop when it lands on the concrete surrounding the steel supports.

“You need to get inside.” He looks back at the panel.

“Why? What are you doing with the dome?”

He flips the control panel he’s been working on closed and finally looks me in the eye. “Running tests,” he says, and I see his lie thick on him, growing like a dark gray fungus.

I wipe the rain off my face. They shouldn’t be doing anything with the domes. I pull out my FON and text my mom. I’m still freaked that she knows Reese, but I’m not going to ask her about that now. It’s not like I can text the message, “why do u know the god of war?” and get any kind of real response.

“what’s going on with the dome?” I text her instead.

She responds in seconds. “get home. talk when u get here.”

I start to type out the next message, to tell her about the sand, but then stop. I’m not ready to head home yet. I pocket my FON and sprint to Chloe’s house. The wind has started blowing hard enough I have to fight against it as I run. My hair’s blowing every single way and getting in my eyes, and anything not tied down is starting to move.

Chloe’s sitting outside when I get there, arms wrapped around herself, legs drawn up into her. It’s like she doesn’t even realize the wind is blowing. Overhead, a tile blows off her roof and crashes to the walkway where it shatters. The streets are littered, and where any trees still stand, branches snap off and fall.

“It’s freezing here.” She doesn’t even look up at me, but she has to know I’ve arrived because there’s no one else around she could be talking to. “Have you noticed how cold it is?”

I stand over her. “Chloe, we need to get you inside.” More tiles pull from the roof. We’re under the patio cover, but the way the wind is blowing, one good gust and it could be gone.

“The world feels like ice.”

Ice. I think of the River Cocytus between Hell and the Elysian Fields. Frozen over, but still the wraithlike monsters swim underneath, hoping for an opening but never finding one.

She lets me help her up, and then we walk inside. Her mom shuts the door behind me and starts telling me how’s she’s been trying to get Chloe inside for the last half hour. Chloe’s mom is normally a calm person, but she’s freaked. Her eyes look bloodshot from worry, and she keeps hovering over Chloe.

The rain comes down in sheets then, pounding on the roof of the patio. I’ll have to stay at Chloe’s house until the storm relents. My mom may want me home, but she won’t want me walking or taking a shuttle in this mess. I text her a quick, “waiting til storm stops” and leave it at that.

Chloe’s mom finally goes into the kitchen to make us some coffee which leaves Chloe and me alone. We sit on the sofa, and I try to figure out how to start this conversation with her. There’s been so much going on, I don’t know where to begin. So much has happened even just today. This hurricane is only the most recent part.

“I missed you at the funeral,” I say and put my hand on Chloe’s. But I yank it back at the touch. She is freezing. Like she’s kept her hand in an ice bin to numb it. I force myself to reach back out and put my hand on hers, rubbing it to warm her. I try to ignore the sound of the wind beating against her house and the memories of Minos accusing me at knifepoint.

“I was there. In the back.”

“I didn’t see you,” I say.

“I saw Randy.” She turns to me at this, and her eyes dig into mine, but they look odd. Like her pupils are tiny dots in the center of giant, oversized irises. Irises so big they should touch the boundaries of her eyes. But there’s white all around—encompassing them. I remember something I heard once about white showing all around the eye. Something about violent death.

My heart skips a beat, and I’m afraid to look away. Like Chloe might vanish on me or something. Sink down right now into the ground and be swallowed up. “Randy’s dead,” I say. “It was his funeral.”

And Chloe cannot be seeing ghosts.

But Chloe shakes her head so furiously, I’m actually happy. It’s the first bit of emotion she’s shown since her near-death experience. “No! I saw him there. He was watching. Listening.” And she grips my hand with such force my knuckles feel like they might pop.

Her mom walks back in the room right then and sets two cups of steamy coffee down on the table. She gives me a small smile, but then a boom of thunder hits. We all jump, and Chloe’s mom bumps her hand into one of the cups, splashing coffee over the side. I pull my hand away from Chloe’s and reach for a towel to wipe it up.

Chloe’s mom mouths me a silent, “Thank you.”

I nod in response, and then she leaves the room.

Chloe takes a long sip of coffee and then rubs her hands together, warming them. “So what’s going on Piper?”

This is it. I can tell her about everything. Reese. Shayne. The Underworld. I can warn her to stay far away from Reese. But as I go over the phrasing, it just feels so off. I’m walking around in a world of mythology; who is going to believe that?

Outside, there’s a groaning, like a giant metal monster has just woken up. Chloe and I both jump at the sound because it sounds like something is going to crash in on us. I look to the window, but she has the shades pulled. And then the sound stops.

I wait for my breath to return. “I’m not sure where to start,” I say.

Chloe gives me a smile. “Start anywhere. I feel like I’ve lost the last week.” It’s like it’s the old Chloe. She’s back. And Death has left her behind.

I scoot closer to her and relink my fingers with hers. Her hands have warmed up again, and her tattoo is normal. I look to mine and see they match. Black and solid. Sacrifice .

For some reason, Minos’s words come back to me. Do you know what the penalty for killing a phoenix is? I ignore them.

I start with something easy. “My mom got back today,” I say, grasping for straws. “She said my father wants custody.”

“Custody?” Chloe’s voice echoes my own amazement.

“Yeah. Weird, huh?”

The metal outside groans again though not as loud. I think the wind must be hitting against the metal beams.

“Totally weird. You’re eighteen. Parents don’t get custody at eighteen.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” And then I lean closer though no one is around to hear. “I have to admit I’m a little curious, Chloe.”

She moves her fingers until our thumbs press together. “About your father?”

I nod. “I might get to meet him. And he wants me in his life.”

Chloe purses her lips. “I don’t know, Piper. He got convicted as a terrorist.”

“That’s what my mom says. But maybe she’s lying. Maybe she’s just been keeping me away from him.”

Chloe doesn’t answer. She knows if it were up to my mom, I’d live with her until I was a hundred years old.

“Seriously, Chloe. I want to meet him.”

Chloe doesn’t seem to hear me. Or she chooses to ignore me. “He was so sad, Piper.”

“My father?”

Chloe shakes her head. “Randy. His father beats his mom. And his little sister. Did you know that? She’s only seven.”

The blood freezes in my veins at her words, and the chill that runs through me knocks the wind out of me. How could Chloe possibly know Randy Conner’s final sorrow? How could she know about his abusive father? I lived next to him for four years, yet I had no idea.