Page 6 of Papers Don't Lie

Getting hit by a car hurts like hell, but getting a knife soaked in the ugly truth right through your chest is not survivable.

THREE

ESMERAY

After three days of staring at the wall made of glass, I still can’t take my eyes off the New York view displayed. Back at home, our big house had only small windows at my mother’s request—who always used to say reality isn’t as pretty as it is through glass and that we shouldn’t be tempted by falsities. I still haven’t decided if she was right or not, but for now, out of this huge suite Mr. Kai Graves rented for me, this is my favorite place.

The bed is glued to the wall, and I’m tucked under the sheets, grateful that this is something I get to experience before my life is fucked up for good.

When Kendrick brought me to the hotel, I was certain I’d spend only one night in the suite and then continue on my way. Yet I feel safe with a guard around, and finally, I can breathe easier at the thought that I’m here because I want to be, because I decided to stay.

Four more days, and then I’m out of here.

I’m still not sure if I’m going back home to face the reality after this outburst of running away, or if I’ll try to come up with a plan to start a new life from scratch. Accepting my fate would definitely be the easier choice, but then if I do that, I’m goingto be locked up in a gilded cage in Carter’s arms and under my parents’ eyes, who’ll make sure I won’t get away with what I did.

The second option is as bad as the first one. If I decide to leave the past behind for good, that also involves staying away from my sisters for at least one year until things calm down.

My loved ones or the freedom I’ve always dreamed about?

“Mr. Graves asked me to let you know you shouldn’t hesitate to tell him if you need anything.” Kendrick’s talking from behind the couch on my left, which is the closest to the door, and interrupts the train of my thoughts. He’s standing as if he’s one foot inside and one foot outside of this room.

I sigh at his words. He’s not doing anything wrong, but it irritates me he’s the one doing everything to make sure I’m well and not his excuse of a boss, who happens to be the one who caused the accident.

My body still aches everywhere, and I can’t even get out of bed without feeling nauseous. The least he could do is represent any—no matter how little—interest, considering this isn’t a thing you can forget about just because I kept my mouth shut and didn’t complain.

“I know, Kendrick. You tell me the same thing every day, and anyway, how can I tell him if he’s not even here?” I ask, rearranging the pillow under my head before popping the pills from the nightstand into my mouth and swallowing them with water.

Kendrick takes a step further into the room, still as a statue. “Through me, of course.”

“Why is he not here, fixing his mistakes himself?” I can’t help but raise a brow.

As any normal human being would, I ask Kendrick every day to tell Mr. Graves that I’d like to see him. I even use a different excuse every time. The first one was that I’d like to thank him for what he did for me—it didn’t work—and the second time, I actedlike I didn’t feel very well and suggested that he should call Kai Graves to take me to the hospital, which didn’t work either.

I swear to God, Kendrick has the head of a bull.

“He’s a very busy man, Esmeray.”

Sure, he’s busy.

After doing my research scrupulously on the first day I got here, I found out that Kai Graves is the proud owner of a real estate agency and that he took over the company six years ago after his father retired. I couldn’t find an explanation as to why he stepped down, but it might’ve been because he wanted to take a break after a lifetime of working.

Since Kai Graves doesn’t have a single social media account and knows how to hide from the paparazzi, I was lucky to come across a photo of him. The image was taken almost ten years ago and displayed all of the four Graves brothers, but much younger. It was impossible to figure out which one of them was Mr. Graves.

“I see,” I murmur, looking out the huge window in front of my bed. “I just can’t understand how someone does something like this and forgets what his responsibilities are. He uses you as a pawn as well, as if you’re expected to be responsible for everything he fucks up. Is he a child or what? How old is he, Kendrick?” I ask, moving my gaze to him, even though I know the answer. Again, it’s a rhetorical question.

“He’s twenty-six.”

“Huh,” I mumble to myself. “And sit down. Your legs surely hurt.”

Kendrick nods his head and occupies a seat on the couch a few feet from my bed. At first, he spent the night in the hallway, and when I found him asleep at the doorstep, I told him since we’re both stuck in here for a while, we might as well spend that time together.

That,and I feel safer with someone in the room.

I bite the inside of my cheek and glance at the phone lying on the table beside me. After I googled Mr. Graves, I shut it down and never opened it again.

It’s not only because I know it’s something Carter can use to track me down. It’s mostly because I’m not ready to see what my family thinks about what I did.

But I can’t avoid it forever, can I?

---