Hidden Truths (Truths and Lies 1)

I’m once again overcome with rage as the realization strikes that I have no one I can count on but myself. My own father was the one to hand me over. The rest of my family has their hands tied behind their backs. The only chance I have at getting out of this is me. I need to formulate a plan. And to do that I need to be alone.

When I stand, ready to flee back to my room, Aris says my name.

“Are you okay?” he asks, worry dripping in his words.

“No,” I tell him honestly, “but I will be.”

“I’m really sorry your grandfather wasn’t able to get you out of this mess.” Even though it’s his family who is causing all of this to happen, I feel like, to an extent, he might genuinely mean that.

“It’s not your fault. Thank you for being so kind to me.” I kneel to pick up the pieces of glass, but Aris stops me.

“Someone will clean that up. Would you like to go for a walk? The bay is beautiful at this time.”

“Raincheck?” I ask, even though I don’t plan to be here for him to collect. I don’t care how I have to do it, I will be getting the hell off this island. “I think I need some time to myself.”

“Sure.” His lips curl into a soft smile. “Let me see your phone.”

I hold it closer to my chest. If he takes my phone from me, it will mess up my plan.

“I’m just going to input my number into your contacts in case you need something or someone to talk to.”

Reluctantly, I type in my code then hand my phone over to him. After a few seconds, he hands it back.

“The restaurants serve all day. Just let them know your name and they’ll serve you anything you want.”

“Okay, thank you.”

On my way back to my room, my phone pings with a text, reminding me I don’t want to just change his contact from Dad to Niles, but to block his number altogether.

Dad: I’m so sorry, sunshine. I hope one day you can forgive me. There was just no other way.

And with that text, my anger is back with a vengeance. The second I step into my room, I allow myself to lose it. Picking up the crystal vase from the end table, I imagine it’s my dad’s head as I cock my arm back and throw it as hard as I can. It bounces off the wall and shatters when it hits the wood floor.

Damn, that felt good.

I grab something else—this time, a lamp—and chuck it across the room. It smashes against the wall, fragments raining down and landing on top of the broken crystal.

I take a deep breath. And then I grab the other lamp and throw it.

Item after item, I throw everything I can get my hands on until my arm is dead and there’s nothing left to throw. Until my anger has dissipated enough that I can form a coherent thought.

And then I formulate my plan.

I pull up my airline ticket and call the airline. After my flight is booked, I call Alex.

“Talia, how are you?” Alex asks when he answers the phone. His voice is groggy, and it’s then I remember there’s an eight-hour time difference between Chicago and Greece.

“I’m good. I’m sorry to wake you, but I have great news. My father is letting me come visit you after all. My flight leaves in a few hours.”

“That’s fabulous!” he exclaims, his voice brighter and more awake. “I’ll pick you up at the airport. What time will your flight arrive?”

“It’s a twelve-hour flight, so I should be there at six o’clock your time.”

“Once you find out your gate number, call me so I know where to meet you.”

“I will. I can’t wait to see you.”

After we hang up, I make sure I have everything I need in my purse, and then, leaving my room key on the nightstand, I slip out. I head up the path and find a side exit. I thought about snagging a cab from here, but then they could track me. So instead, my plan is to walk as far as I can go and then hail a cab outside of the hotel.

My plan works. After walking the mile down the long roadway, I sneak behind a guard gate and exit along the back. When I step out of the trees, I’m standing on the sidewalk facing a busy street. Several cabs drive up and down the road, and not even a second after I’ve waved my hand, one pulls to the side.

“Heraklion airport.”

The driver nods once and takes off. Fifty minutes later, I swipe my credit card and exit the cab. I find the airline I’m flying with and check in. Because I don’t have any bags to check, I’m pushed through the line quickly. As I watch the line to go through security move forward, my heart pounds against my ribcage. I’m almost in the clear. Just a few more people and then I’ll be on the other side.