“Ooh,” Aphrodite cooed from her temple in he clouds, looking down at the mother and son. “Somebody decided to give his heart to Mary!”
“Who gave his heart to who?” Cupid peered at the space Aphrodite was staring at. “Need my help?”
“Young man, she doesn’t need your help there,” his mother replied. “The boy doesn’t need to fall in love anyway. Save an arrow.”
“If only these arrows worked on ghosts,” Cupid murmured to himself, examining his arrows, counting both the golden ones and the lead ones.
“Ghosts are dead, dude,” Aphrodite said without lifting her eyes from Ghost Valley. “Besides, Mary has no heart.”
“See for yourself if you don’t get it.” Saying this, she shoved Cupid down from the clouds.