Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

For about twelve seconds.
Then I’m fully conscious, mind racing. “What do you mean ‘a
descendant of Nike’?” I twist around, staring up at Mom and trying
to capture the thoughts jumbled around in my head. “Nike like the
running shoe.”
“Not exactly,” she says with a huge grin. “Nike like the goddess.
The goddess of victory.”
“What!?”
“Here,” Coach says, handing me the folder. “Read this.”
I look down at a newspaper article. The familiar headline reads,
“Football Star Mysteriously Dies on the Field.” It’s an article about
my dad’s death. I don’t have to read it—I have it memorized.
At last night’s playoff game between the Chargers and the
Broncos, San Diego star running back Nicholas Castro collapsed
on the three yard line, ball in hand. The former USC all-star was
only nine feet from the winning touchdown. Though he was rushed
to Cedars-Sinai hospital for treatment he was declared dead on
arrival. Doctors could find no obvious cause of death and have ruled
it undetermined.
“So?” I shove the article back at him.
Why is he bringing Dad into this?
“Your father did not die of natural causes.” Mom’s voice is whisper
soft.
“What?” I gasp.
Damian leans across the desk and takes my hand. “The gods
smote him because he broke the rules.”
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