Because she has to. After
this.
Ellen had not even returned to her home the home she had shared, fully and of her free will with Heru in Monterey. She went to the first hotel that caught her eye, registered with a fake name and paid in cash she just wanted to get lost, invisible.
The first thing she did when she got to the room was text... Peter, or Paul, she wasn't certain which of the two afterwards.
Heru... took the spell and restored Set. The boy was hurt, but could leave on his own. I am sorry.
Then she turned off her phone. She couldn't ... right now, she could talk with them, couldn't face them, the weight of failure, of allowing two unstable at best; or insane, but she still shied away from using that word about Heru gods to be out at large, uncontainable. It was her fault.
And she wept with it.
And she wept with the hurt of Heru's betrayal, when she had sought nothing for herself and all for him.
And she wept with helplessness.
The cover, the veil, for who she was, a part of her recognized, cast as a limited mortal as she was now, wouldn't hold if a full god sought her. She truly doubted one of them would. She didn't care right then.
She curled on the strange bed and cried. In time, she slept, though that didn't truly bring any relief, memories from a distant, merciless past haunting her dreams.