All the Lies (Lies & Truths Duet #1)(10)

That’s mine. He has no right to take what’s mine.

Before I can voice my thoughts, the detective saunters out of the room with the officers following close behind him.

“Never mind him, Reina.” Alexander faces me. “You’re safe.”

“He… Does he suspect me of murder?”

“He only has circumstantial evidence, and it means nothing.” He clutches my shoulder. “My entire firm will defend you until the last breath we have. Don’t worry about it.”

A firm.

His confidant aura and legal talk make sense. He’s a lawyer and owns a firm. That explains the expensive-looking hospital.

He said he’ll defend me, but does it really matter if I’m an actual suspect and had a hand in hurting someone?

Dr. Anderson comes in with some interns, saying he needs to do a few more tests before my discharge.

Alexander spends most of the time talking on the phone about clients and lawsuits.

We stay a few more hours in the hospital, where I go through multiple tests and cognitive activities. While we wait for the results, Erika helps me shower and put on new clothes Alexander brought.

Seeming satisfied with my results, Dr. Anderson signs my discharge papers.

Alexander wheels my chair out toward a black, shiny Mercedes in front of which a driver wearing a sharp suit holds the door open.

A German car and a driver—of course. I should’ve pieced it all together.

Something glints in the distance as we stop near the door. I shield my eyes with the back of my hand. A slender figure stands near the corner, wearing a black hoodie and holding something shiny. I could almost swear the glint is directed at me. I squint to get a better view. The figure and the glint disappear altogether.

I crane my head, searching the corner.

Nothing.

It’s like they were never there.

Please tell me that wasn’t a play of my imagination.

“What is it, Reina?” Alexander follows my field of vision.

“N-nothing.” My brain is probably still trying to keep up with the outside world.

Alexander and the driver help me into the backseat. The wheelchair goes in the trunk. Then we hit the road.

My ‘guardian’ busies himself with his phone as I watch the city’s tall buildings through the half-lowered window. The colors are so vibrant and… alive. So why do I feel anything but?

Chaos and the unknown gnaw at my chest like the prickling of tiny needles.

I lean over, letting the wind blow my hair back. It would’ve felt nice under different circumstances.

I close the window and slowly face Alexander. “Where are we going?”

He lifts his head from his phone. “Since you’re still weak, you should move back in with me until you’re stronger.”

“Where did I used to live?”

“In an apartment close to the center of town.” He pauses. “There’s been a break-in during your stay in the hospital.”

“A b-break-in? Why?”

“We don’t know. Nothing was stolen.”

My brows furrow. “How come the detective didn’t mention that? It could be motive, right?”

“I didn’t report it.” His face is hard. “You don’t want the police to sniff around you, Reina.”

“But why? Aren’t I the victim in this?”

“You are, but you’re also Gareth Ellis’ only heir. Our families don’t like attention from anyone, police included.”

There’s something he’s not telling me, but what?

His face breaks into a smile and I recognize that he shut off the subject altogether. “My house is your house. And don’t worry, Blackwood College isn’t far.”

“Okay.” I would rather stay with someone who clearly cares about my well-being than being alone anyway.

“Are you ready to go home, Reina?”

Does it matter when I don’t even know where my home is?





Home is a mansion.

The house is three stories and so big I don’t see the end of it. It’s even located on the outskirts of town, which means Alexander is a private man.

The entire front of the house is made of glass. The whole scene seems more like a monumental museum than a place where people live.

A circular garden surrounds the front of the house with trees cut into geometrical shapes. Beds of colorful tulips and roses decorate the space between trees.

A kidney-shaped pool sits in the distance. A low, thumping of music comes from that direction.

Alexander pushes my wheelchair, telling me about the house, how I brought it to life when I used to live here and how he left my room unchanged. He shows me the vast grassy area where I used to practice my moves for the cheerleading squad.

Apparently, I’ve been a cheerleader since high school. Even though I’m studying human sciences at Blackwood, I still cheer for the team.

Seriously, why the hell would I continue doing that stuff three years after high school?

The more I learn about myself, the clearer the picture becomes.

My entire life is like a jigsaw of plastic pieces.

I’m rich—well, Alexander is. My father could’ve been rich too since he was best friends with him.

“What did my father do?” I ask Alexander.