“This has been a weird day,” I told Annabeth. She slipped her hand into mine. “I’m thinking cheeseburgers for dinner at P. J. Clarke’s.” “With bacon,” I said. “We’ve earned it.” “I love the way you think,” she said. “And I’m glad you’re not a god.” She kissed me, and I decided that I was glad too. A kiss in the sunset and the promise of a good bacon cheeseburger—with that kind of payoff, who needs immortality?
