And maybe what I said to Nephthys about my mother loving me isn’t true after all, because that’s just sick. “Mom, I’d take a demon snakebite for you, but I am so gone until that thing is out of your stomach and cleaned.”

I turn toward the door. Ry’s got his hands shoved in his pockets, broad shoulders pushed up. “Umm, vengeful goddess and crazed god of embalming out there?”

“Baby being squeezed out my mother’s birth canal in here.”

He runs into the hall ahead of me. “Do you have any weapons?” he asks.

We both scream as we nearly plow into a man standing in the hall.

“Thoth?” I stare up into his small, kind eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re secretly evil, too. I don’t think I could handle it.”

He smiles, turning both hands into birdies. “What’s the problem?” one of them asks.

“Crazy Anubis and Nephthys tried to kill my mom. And me. They might still be around here.”

The other hand-bird’s eyes narrow murderously. It is way, way more threatening than I ever imagined a bird hand puppet could be. “I will take care of it,” it croaks.

“Okay . . .”

Thoth’s smile hasn’t left, but he stands taller, and I notice a power about him that has always been disguised by his gentleness. “I have watched over your mother since before she was born. I will do the same for you, little one.”

Beaming, I go on my tiptoes and kiss his wrinkled cheek. “I’m glad I always remembered you. And I promise I always will.” Thoth nods, and I watch as his narrow, stooped frame disappears around the hall corner.

I doubt we’ll see Anubis or Nephthys here again. I don’t know how Set will feel about what his wife did, or about her decline. I don’t know what it will mean if such a permanent part of their family disappears forever. But I am content to let my parents work out their own problems.

“Come on,” I say, taking Ry’s hand. “We can hide in my room.”

Before locking the door behind us, I look in all the corners to double-check for lurking gods, but with Thoth here I feel calm. Safe.

“You have a bit of a theme,” Ry says, looking around my room, which my mother hasn’t destroyed yet. Thank goodness. I don’t plan on staying here—what Sirus said about learning who we are away from our mother feels both true and timely. Now that I’ve finally accepted her and realized she always loved me, I think I can discover who I am without it revolving around what I’m not. San Diego seems like a good place to figure that out.

I flop onto the silver covers of my bed and stare at the ceiling. Ry jumps on next to me, bouncing me so hard I nearly fall off.

“Hey! There I am.” He grins at the placement of Orion on my ceiling.

“I thought you said you weren’t that Orion.”

“Nope, just your Orion.”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t get up, and I don’t move when he casually scoots a bit closer to me. “Isadora?”

“Orion?”

“If we’re going to go at a pace you want, it’d be really nice if you’d put a shirt on over your bra.”

I sigh dramatically. “You’re so demanding.” But he has a point. In the rush to get away from the impending maternal nudity to end all maternal nudity, I’d kind of forgotten that I still hadn’t replaced my shirt.

I stand and dig through my drawers for the clothes I have left here before settling on a plain black tee.

“You’ll have to introduce me to your parents properly,” Ry says. “You know, when you’re not saving their lives. And when your mom’s not in labor.”

“Whatever you do, do not tell her you’re Greek. She’ll kick you out of the house and never let me see you again.”

I turn around to find him staring at me, his blue eyes twin pools of happiness.

“So, you’re seeing me?”

My fingers trace the jade oval of the scarab on my bracelet, the bracelet that saved more than one life today. A rebirth. Hope. “Maybe.” I let a corner of my mouth go up in a smile. “For now. But don’t think this means I buy any of your fate nonsense. I’m not committing to anything.” Other than being happy and brave and willing to let temporary things feel permanent until maybe, just maybe, they become permanent.

He stands and wraps his arms around my waist, and the shock and joy of his hands on me overwhelms my senses. I wonder if I’ll ever get to the point where being touched doesn’t do this to me. I hope not.

“Fortunately for us, I’m both persistent and persuasive.” He leans in, and I smile against his lips, finally give up and let his love flood in and carve the last of my stone heart into a new shape I’m only just discovering.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like a surrender.

It feels like a victory.

I wander the dark landscape, contentedly tracing the new constellations of my night sky. There, Isis, my mother—still infuriating but also beloved—and in her arms Dora, the first daughter named after someone other than herself. In the distance, farther than I can reach right now but in my future, my father’s stars. Between us, Sirus and Deena’s stars, even Tyler and Scott’s. The stars and guiding points of my life, each in their place.

And of course, directly over me, Orion, with his new brilliantly blue stars. I reach up and trace my fingers along the milky swirls of the galaxy, decide where I’ll paint my own stars onto the sky among these people I love.