The phone slipped from Athena's fingers, hitting the ground with a hollow crack that echoed far too loud.
For a second, she didn't move.
Then her body trembled so subtly at first it looked like she was shivering from the cold. But there was no cold here. Just a sudden, choking silence.
Oliver blinked at her, confusion flickering into concern. "Athena?"
Athena's breath hitched once, then again before everything around her began to tilt.
It was happening again.
Her chest tightened, her vision blurred. A sharp pain crawled up her spine as the world twisted into something she hadn't seen in months. The vision.
The red nail paint.
The gleam of metal catching dim light.
The woman's body straddling her father's body, her face calm, almost smiling.
Then the knife plunging into his stomach again, again, again wet sounds filling the silence.
Blood soaked through the floor.
Her father's eyes went glassy.
