eyes were so doubtful he nearly faltered. How dare she?
Over the years there had been many stories floating around the
tabloids about his father?that he had been maimed, that he had
lost his mind to an obsessive-compulsive disorder like Howard
Hughes, that he was dead. Creon knew at least that his father was
alive, and he had vehemently denied all of the other accusations
time and time again. But the truth was, Creon hadn?t seen or
spoken to his father in nineteen years. No one had seen Tantalus
except Creon?s mother, Mildred Delos.
His mother insisted that Tantalus was in hiding in order to protect
himself and the House of Thebes, but she never could explain
to Creon why his father wouldn?t call him on the phone, not even
once. It seemed like such a little thing to ask.
?All lies? You know this for certain?? the reporter pressed as soon
as she saw Creon fall into his own conflicted thoughts. Creon noticed
that she kept speaking in English, almost as if she was taunting
him. ?For years now, you, your mother, your whole family, say
all these things are lies, but how do you know for true? Tell me,
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Creon, when is the last time you saw your father? I know he was
not at your graduation from university.?
Creon gritted his teeth. ?My father is a very private man. He . . .?
?Pssh!? she exclaimed derisively, cutting Creon off with an imperious
wave of her hand. She shouldn?t have done that. ?This is
not privacy, this is lunacy! Can any man?s privacy mean so much
that he would abandon his only son simply to stay out of the
papers??
Creon?s hand shot out and he had her by the throat before she
could even raise an arm in protest. She had such a tiny throat, so
slender and fragile. Creon thought it was like holding a thin kitten