The Time It Takes To Fall

To Live a Lie

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself she'd dodged a bullet, her heart still felt alone and empty without Kai. Perhaps it was only because he was her first love that she felt this way, but she'd honestly believed him to be that missing part of her soul. He'd made her feel whole for the first time in her miserable life.

Before the pain of an empty heart had hardly registered— she'd known that there was a piece missing within her, but she had no other feeling to compare it to. But now, after feeling alive and whole, going back to that aching loneliness was the most horrendous punishment in the world.

Her heart was angry at Iko— not Kai. Her soul longed for him, and not her best friend. She despised her best friend for ruining her first chance at happiness, even if she had done it for Cinder's own good.

"He didn't murder the old man," Cinder said, changing the conversation. She turned the stove on high and walked to the table, sitting across from Iko.

"Do you know that for a fact?"

"Yes," Cinder growled, digging her fingernails into her palm.

Iko huffed, her eyes bright and livid as she looked at Cinder. "Seriously, Cinder, do you know for a fact?"

"Yes," Cinder repeated, her tone growing agitated. "Yes, I know for a fact that he didn't kill the old man."

"Well then who did?" Iko asked, thumping one finger down upon the table in a repetitive motion. "Who else has the motive to kill a silly old man?"

"I don't know!" Cinder yelled, throwing her hands into the air. "I don't exactly know Erland and neither do you. He could have secretly been a member of the Mafia, or had a crazy ex-wife, or– or maybe Oregon has a serial killer that likes to kill historians. I don't know! There are thousands of options that don't involve Kai."

"Don't let your emotions cloud your better judgement, Cinder," Iko hissed. "Stars, I thought you were more sensible than this." She rolled her eyes violently, then folded her arms across her chest with the same gusto as the eye-rolling. "I discover that you're dating a murderer and you're mad at me? What the hell is with that, Cinder?"

"For the last time," Cinder said, her voice a low, dangerous whisper. "He didn't kill the old historian. I know it— I could see it in his eyes. He had never even heard of the man before."

"Fine," Iko spat, her teeth prominent as she let out the single word. "So he's not a killer— he's still crazy."

Cinder pushed back from her chair and walked to the kettle. It wasn't whistling yet, but she didn't much care. She no longer wanted to sit at the table and discuss Kai— she couldn't bear it.

Tension sizzled in the air like a tangible thing— it stung at Cinder's skin and in her eyes. It pierced her very soul like a burning spike. She wanted nothing more than to scream and cry and break everything within her reach. How was it her rotten luck that she'd fallen in love with a crazy person?

How was it that she didn't even find him all that crazy?

After thinking about him all night long and not sleeping a wink, she couldn't shake the fact that she thought he was telling the truth. Of course mentally she knew that every word pertaining to his life as "Prince Kaito" was utter falsehood, but in her heart she felt that the words were not lies. It was almost worse to not disbelieve his words— if she had found him crazy, perhaps he would have been easier to get over.

There was something about the way he talked about his life— about her and him and everything in between. He knew the story in a way that no liar could explain. His understanding of her soul at the very base of everything made her sure— despite everything within her— that every inch of his story was the truth.