Patrick had been right, Rosario thought. Clio was exactly the kind of person she needed to talk to about this stuff. Somebody who wasn't gonna sugarcoat it or tell her out she oughta feel about it; somebody who'd lay out the facts in a reasonable, logical way. That was what she was looking for, really; it was what she'd been searching for all along, even before she knew her birth father was anything other than a crazy-rich guy: some solid facts that she could build off of, a new foundation to replace the one that'd been swept away. Rosario let out a quiet breath. "Thank you. I, you know, I appreciate you being straight with me."
She wrapped both hands around the coffee mug. There was any number of questions she could ask. Like, who should she avoid, and why did Apollo want her to avoid one of Clio's sisters? Had Clio known any of Apollo's other kids? How many other Muses lived in the city? (Did Urania?) Maybe Clio could even give her a better idea of how the whole... weird, nebulous belief thing worked.
Or she could get straight to the point and ask the real question that had been eating away at her since that day in Prospect Park.
She forestalled the moment by taking a gulp of coffee. Strong and sweet and just shy of scalding, it burned on the way down. Bandaid off, she thought.
"Actually," Rosario began, "there's something else I wanted to ask you about. He told me I..." She hesitated, shifted in her seat. "He, um. He said I have an affinity. Cuz I've been seeing... stuff. Omens, I guess." I guess, as though it was just one of those things some people got, like hay fever, and not the horror that had been haunting her dreams, or possibly causing them. She had to force herself to look up from the mug and meet Clio's eyes. "He said it was gonna keep happening. Do you... know anything about all that? Prophecy?"