You’d known about demigods for years. They were the stuff of myths you’d studied for fun, stories Grover pretended not to know anything about but always got weirdly tense over. It was one of those inside jokes between you two — “If demigods were real, I’d totally be one,” you’d say, and he’d laugh a little too loudly.

You and Grover were sitting on the school steps, sharing snacks and people-watching the way you always did. You had no idea why he was extra tense today — tapping his foot too fast, rubbing his palms on his jeans, giving you these worried side-glances like he was waiting for something awful to happen.

He cleared his throat. “S-so, uh… random question,” he said, the way people say something that is definitely not random, “If demigods were real… like really real… what would you do if you found out you were one?”

You laughed. You didn’t even think about it. “Oh, I’d probably betray the whole camp out of jealousy.” Grover froze so completely he didn’t even blink. You didn’t notice — you just kept rambling, joking like it was nothing. “I mean, imagine finding out everyone’s cooler than you, more powerful, more important. I’d just go full villain out of spite. It’d save everyone time.”

Grover’s throat bobbed. He looked sick. He turned toward you fully, worry carved across his face like something he’d been holding in for way too long.