There's something wrong. I know that. My family is dying. Being killed by...gods only knows because that wasn't something Del saw fit to include in her prophecy when my life spiraled so completely out of control. And yet.... I'm leaving them. I care. Of course, I care. But it's a distant sort of caring. The kind that is more habit than actual concern. I worry for my family because I have to worry for my family. Even when I left Olympus, I cared. It's why I left, because Del saw that we would die, and that I would be the reason we did. But for eons, the only company I've had is my twin and the occasional appearance of my cousin. And for all of that, I never stopped thinking about them. My family is cruel and petty and capricious and arrogant in ways that humanity couldn't even fathom. But they were mine and in my mad, distant way, I loved them. Which is why leaving should give me pause. There are two dead in less than a week, and I'm leaving again like nothing has happened. Distantly, I am aware that something about that is wrong.
