The forest had been thick when you entered it. Now it felt suffocating. Branches clawed at armor and sleeves. The air smelled damp and wrong, like something had rotted nearby and the earth hadn’t decided what to do with it yet. The sky was barely visible through the canopy, streaks of fading orange swallowed by shadow.

You’d said you knew the way. Or at least—you’d said you thought you did. The map had been unclear. The path had forked twice. You’d chosen left both times because it felt right. Because someone had to decide.

And now the trail had vanished completely. Annabeth stood a few paces away, scanning the trees with tight, analytical silence. Jason’s jaw was set. Piper kept glancing between everyone like she was bracing for impact.

Percy wasn’t looking at you. That hurt more than it should have. The tension had been building for the last hour—small comments, heavy sighs, footsteps that felt more pointed than necessary.

You hadn’t meant to lead them wrong. You just didn’t know. But admitting that earlier would’ve meant admitting you were guessing. And someone had to look confident. Someone had to pretend. A twig snapped under Leo’s boot as he turned toward you, frustration finally boiling over. “Why didn’t you tell us!?” Leo asks.