Chapter 13 #2
Oscar shifted, his attention dancing back and forth between me and the doctor. “You are special,” he said, studying me with an intensity that added weight to his words. “Even if you don’t remember why yet.”
“Don’t do that,” I ordered. I didn’t know this man and he didn’t have the right to interject his opinions or judgment. “Don’t talk to me like I’m some huge secret.”
“Who said you weren’t?” He tilted his head.
Dr. Heinritz rose. “I think it’s best we reconvene?—”
“No, no,” Oscar said. “Let her stay. Actually, I came to deliver something and she might as well hear it too.” He retrieved a small envelope sealed with silver wax from his coat pocket. The insignia pressed into it seemed to shimmer. I didn’t immediately recognize the symbol.
But it felt familiar . Almost wrongly familiar.
Oscar passed the envelope to Dr. Heinritz with something like reverence.
“This needs to reach a certain someone by tomorrow’s solstice marker. Physical relay only. No digital tracking. You understand.” Clear yet cryptic.
Dr. Heinritz nodded.
Then, Oscar turned to me. “As for you,” he said softly, stepping closer.
“You’re waking up. That’s good. But remember this, messages are just mirrors.
It’s up to you whether you read them or break them.
” He tapped two fingers to his forehead in mock salute, winked and then paused at the door to pet the puppy.
“Hey there, little one.” Then he strolled on like a man who owned the place.
The silence he left behind wasn’t empty, it rang.
I wanted to scream. Instead, I whirled to focus on Dr. Heinritz. “What the hell is going on?”
She didn’t answer right away. Just looked at the envelope in her hands and then at me.
“I think you’re going to need some context,” she said with a sigh. “And probably some tea.”
The tea was jasmine. Hot. Strong. No sugar, no milk—just the kind of bitter clarity I needed.
Dr. Heinritz moved with that eerie calm she always had.
It wasn’t indifference. More the practiced serenity of someone who’d seen weirder things than this.
At the moment, I really shouldn’t find that as comforting as I did.
She handed me the cup, then sat across from me at the low table in her office.
The strange silver-sealed envelope sat between us. Untouched.
I stared at it. “He called himself Hermes. ”
She nodded. “It’s not his first time using that name.”
I blinked. “Wait. Are you saying… that was Hermes? Like the actual god?”
Another sip of tea. “Would it really surprise you?”
I leaned back in the chair, trying not to spiral. “You’re telling me literal mythological gods are walking around New York and… what? Dropping off mail?”
“It’s not as metaphorical as you think,” she said. “Most of the older ones take human roles now. It’s easier to exist in fragments. Less attention.”
As stunning as that bombshell should have been, I was far from flummoxed. If anything, I was irritated. “But why here ? Why me?”
Dr. Heinritz finally looked me in the eyes. “Because you aren’t just human either, Irina.”
Silence plummeted between us, chilling the air until it left a coat of frost behind.
She continued, slowly. “I don’t know the whole story. I’ve only ever been told pieces. Clues. But Thanatek’s involvement in Future Flora wasn’t a coincidence. They’ve been tracking bio-signatures—unique energetic patterns—across multiple lifetimes.”
“And mine matched something,” I whispered.
“It matched someone, ” she corrected.
“Who?”
She paused, then said, “Persephone.”
I sat very still.
“The goddess,” she continued. “Or the soul once called that. A spirit that’s reincarnated dozens of times.
Not always as a woman. Not always in this part of the world.
But always carrying the same core resonance.
And each time… something interferes. She dies, but doesn’t cross over.
Leaves no trace in Thanatek’s underworld data. It’s like she evaporates.”
I laughed, breathless. “So, I’m a glitch in their reincarnation tracking?”
“You’re more than that. You’re a missing piece. And someone powerful wants to keep you that way.”
The tea had gone cold in my hands.
“I found Graven last night,” I said, quietly. “He doesn’t match the ghost-blank like Kassian does. He has history. Work. But it’s all tied to Thanatek. And it all feels like misdirection.”
Dr. Heinritz didn’t confirm or deny. “He’s not a stranger to the systems we use. But he’s not their pawn either.”
“He’s, what, in love with Persephone?”
“More than love,” she said softly. “Bound. Across lifetimes. One of the oldest stories there is. He’s not the villain here, Irina. But he may be too close to see clearly.”
I closed my eyes. The room felt heavier now. Denser. Like something unseen had entered with the truth. I opened them again. “The envelope,” I said. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. But it’s for someone I haven’t seen in a long time.”
“Someone… like him?”
Dr. Heinritz nodded once.
A part of me wanted to leave. Run. Call my mom. Pretend this was all some elaborate dream wrapped in the scent of moss and soil and jasmine tea. But I didn’t move. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I asked, finally.
“I wasn’t sure it was you ,” she said. “Not until Regrowth opened the way it did. That revealed her presence. That was you. ”
I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. “And now?”
Dr. Heinritz leaned forward, her gaze calm and exact. “Now,” she said, “you have to choose how much truth you want to carry. Because once it starts coming, it won’t stop. And it will change everything.”