The first public lie
1201 Words
Erica
“Smile.”
I didn't answer.
Adrian’s fingers press gently into my palm, a silent warning disguised as intimacy. The ballroom glows crystal chandeliers, champagne flutes, bodies dressed in wealth and certainty. Everyone is watching us.
"Everyone wants proof."
"Proof that I belong here?"
Or"
Proof that I’m harmless."
“Smile, Erica,” he murmurs again, closer now. “They’re waiting.”
“For what?” I whisper.
“For you to look normal.”
That word stings.
I lift my lips into something that could pass for joy. Cameras flash immediately. The sound is sharp, predatory.
A woman approaches us, dressed in diamonds and curiosity. “Adrian,” she says warmly. “And you must be the bride.”
I nod. “Unfortunately.”
Adrian’s grip tightens.
The woman laughs. “Oh, she’s funny.”
“I’m honest,” I reply.
Adrian cuts in smoothly. “My wife has a dry sense of humor.”
"Your wife."
woman tilts her head. “We were all so surprised by the sudden wedding.”
“So were we,” I say.
Adrian clears his throat. “It was… spontaneous.”
“Love often is,” the woman says.
I look at Adrian. “Is it?”
His smile doesn’t waver. “Sometimes.”
She leans in conspiratorially. “You’re lucky. He’s been impossible to pin down.”
“Really?” I ask. “He seems very… committed.”
Adrian lets out a soft laugh. “I am now.”
The woman glances between us, intrigued. “And how did you two meet?”
There it is.
The question we rehearsed.
Adrian opens his mouth.
I beat him to it.
“We met because our families needed something from each other,” I say lightly.
Silence snaps tight.
Adrian turns to me slowly. His eyes warn, plead, command all at once.
The woman blinks. “Oh.”
“I mean,” I added, forcing a laugh, “love grows in strange places, doesn’t it?”
Adrian recovers instantly. “Erica means destiny works through unexpected connections.”
“Of course,” the woman says, though doubt flickers across her face. “Well, congratulations.”
She walks away.
Adrian leans in, his voice low and sharp. “Do not do that again.”
“Do what?” I whisper. “Tell the truth?”
“You told a truth,” he says. “Not the one that keeps you safe.”
I pull my hand free. “You don’t get to script my mouth.”
“Yes,” he says quietly, “I do. For now.”
Anger surges. “You sound just like them.”
He stiffens. “I sound like someone trying to keep you alive in a room full of sharks.”
I scan the crowd. Faces smiling. Watching. Measuring.
“Which one of them thinks I’m dangerous?” I ask.
He didn't answer.
“That’s not comforting,” I added.
“I know.”
A man approaches older, confident, eyes sharp with recognition. My father’s friend. One of the ones who never looked at me too long.
“Erica,” he says warmly. “You look radiant.”
I force a smile. “Thank you.”
He turns to Adrian. “Hard to believe how quickly things move.”
“Yes,” Adrian replies. “Time has a way of accelerating.”
The man chuckles. “Especially when there’s history."
My stomach tightens.
“What history?” I ask.
Adrian’s hand slides back to my waist. “Family history.”
The man’s gaze sharpens. “Of course. Speaking of which…” He leans closer to me. “Do you remember the night at Blackridge?”
The room seems to tilt.
“No,” I say slowly. “Should I?”
Adrian answers too quickly. “She was unwell then.”
The man smiles thinly. “Yes. That’s what we said.”
My heart pounds. “Said to whom?”
Adrian’s fingers dig in now. A warning.
The man pats my arm. “Don’t trouble yourself. The past is best left where it belongs.”
He walks away.
I turn to Adrian, my voice shaking despite myself. “What happened at Blackridge?”
He looks around quickly. Too quickly.
“Not here,” he murmurs.
“Not ever?” I challenge.
Before he could answer, another voice cuts in female, cool, familiar.
“Erica.”
I turn.
His mother.
She looks flawless. Dangerous in silk.
“I wanted a moment with you,” she says. “Alone.”
Adrian steps forward. “Now isn’t.....”
“It’s necessary,” she interrupts, eyes never leaving mine. “You don’t mind, do you?”
She isn’t asking.
Adrian hesitates. Just a fraction.
That’s all it takes.
“I’ll be right here,” he says to me quietly. “Don’t say anything.”
I follow her toward a quieter corner, my pulse screaming.
She stops, turns, studies me like an object that might malfunction.
“You’re struggling,” she says.
“I was forced into a marriage,” I reply. “Forgive me if I’m not glowing.”
Her lips curve slightly. “You were chosen.”
“For containment,” I say before I can stop myself.
Something sharp flashes in her eyes.
“Careful,” she says softly. “Words reveal more than memories.”
I swallow. “Why am I really here?”
She steps closer. “Because you’re safer with us than without us.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’ll get.”
I meet her gaze. “Did I hurt someone?”
She smiles then. Not kindly.
“Not yet.”
Cold terror slides down my spine.
“What does that mean?” I whisper.
She leans in, her breath warm against my ear.
“It means,” she says, “we’re very interested to see what happens when you start remembering.”
She straightens and walks away.
I stand there, frozen, heart racing.
Adrian is already moving toward me, alarm etched across his face.
“What did she say?” he asks urgently.
Before I can answer, the lights dim slightly. Music softens. A hush ripples through the crowd.
A voice echoes from the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, a toast to new beginnings, and to secrets that stay buried.”
Applause erupts.
Adrian’s face drains of color.
I look at him, realization crashing through me.
“ Are they’re testing my obedience,” I whisper?"
" His eyes meets mine."
" No" he whispers back."
“They’re testing your memory,” he says.
And somewhere deep inside me, something stirs.
Something buried.
Something awake.
My head throbs. I whisper, “Adrian, I feel dizzy.”
He tightens his grip. “Don’t faint. If you do, they’ll escalate.”
“That’s comforting,” I breathe.
A flash of memory hits sirens, shouting, my name screamed in panic.
I gasp. “Something happened. I saw.... ”
“Stop,” he says urgently. “Not here. Not now.”
Applause swells again. I clap on instinct, smiling through terror.
Adrian leans close.
“They know,” he murmurs.
And suddenly, I know it too.
- Writer
