I wiggle my toes, and I inhale deeply just to prove to myself that I am indeed laying in this hospital bed.
“Both Ares and the pilot didn’t make it. The rescuers pulled both of their bodies from the wreckage shortly after your rescue. You somehow got free and floated long enough for help to arrive,” my father continues.
“I don’t understand,” I begin.
Daphne takes my hand again. “You have some minor injuries. Some cuts and bruises. You do have a head wound, and you’ve been unconscious for a few days. The doctors were hopeful you’d wake up, but they said confusion and memory loss could be a side effect. So, it’s okay to feel this way.”
Confused? Memory loss? This has nothing to do with my head injury. My fucking father is telling me I’m dead when I’m alive. They’re telling me my brother is dead but—
“Apollo?” my father says. “Did you hear Daphne? You’re going to struggle with memories. You may have some confusion. But you came out of this alive.”
“My brother—”
My father pats my arm, an unusual sign of affection. “He’s dead, son. He didn’t make it. Ares is dead.”
Athena, who hasn’t said a word since I woke up, turns on her heels and goes to leave the room. “I’m going to have the doctor come back and take a look at him.” She doesn’t wait for anyone to say anything and leaves.
“Daphne,” my father says, “make sure Athena doesn’t tear down the nurses’ station or hurricane her way around out there. I’d like a moment with my son.”
Daphne, with tears in her eyes, stands from her chair and does what he asks without argument.
When the door closes, my father turns his attention on me. “I know you’re feeling a lot of different emotions right now.”
“I’m not Apollo.” I rasp the words out, knowing this news has to come as a shock to my father. He thought one son survived the crash, and the other died. He got it wrong. It’s backwards. “I’m Ares.”
“No, you are Apollo,” he says firmly.
When I go to shake my head, he cuts me off.
“You listen to me. I will not lose one son to death and the other to prison. So you are going to grieve your brother however you choose, but then accept the fact that you are now him. You are not Ares anymore. You are Apollo.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” My head spins, and I suddenly want to go back into the coma I was in.
“Everyone—including the authorities—believes Ares died in that crash. They believe you died, and your brother lived. I don’t know why you were wearing his clothing, or why you had his identification on you, but you did. So as of right now, everyone believes that the man who was going to spend the rest of his life in jail is now dead. But Apollo, the strait-laced, good Godwin son, somehow survived.Youare now that son.”
“They all think I died? Everyone?”
He takes a calming breath. My father doesn’t like to repeat himself, and he has zero patience for anyone, but he is once again acting uncharacteristic and repeats, “Focus on what I’m saying. You and I are the only ones who know Apollo was the one who died. But the world believes Ares died. We will not allow Apollo to die in vain. If we can use his name and identity, then we will.”
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and try to shake off the drugs, or the brain damage, or whatever is making my father’s words seem unreal.
“When they brought you in to the hospital, you were in your brother’s clothes. You had his wallet and passport. There was no reason for anyone to think you weren’t Apollo. And at first, I even believed you were him until I noticed your pinky finger.”
My eyes open and lower to my crooked pinky on my left hand that resulted from an injury as a child that never healed properly. I had broken my finger playing rough with my brother and my father had told me to man up rather than letting me splint it or set the bone back into place. So, it was the only part of me that was slightly different than Apollo. It would take a father’s eye to notice. Not to mention the fact no one can pull anything over on Troy Godwin for long.
My father continues with, “There was no reason for me to correct anyone on the assumption that you weren’t Apollo. Why? What good would that do? They’d only let you recover long enough to send you to prison for the rest of your life. But,” he gives me a wicked grin, “if you rise from the ashes like a motherfucking phoenix and become Apollo, then you are a free man forever.”
Grief from losing his favorite son must have made him lose his goddamn mind. “I can’t just be…my brother.”
“You can. You will. There is no other choice unless you want them to come into this room and handcuff you to the bed.”
“I feel like I’m going to puke,” I say, closing my eyes, not being able to process his words.
“It’s a lot. But you and I both know that Apollo would want you to do this. He wouldn’t want you to go to jail for…for whathedid.”
“I can’t do this. It’s so fucked up.” I’ve never gone against an order of my father’s. When he says jump, I’ve only strived to jump the highest of them all. But this request… “This can’t be real.”
I open my eyes as my father leans even closer to me. “Your sister andyour wifeare about to come in here. You are going to morph into this new identity. You are going to be reborn, son. This is your second chance at life, and you sure as fuck will not turn it down because you suddenly have morals.”