The Liars

The Liars

Volume 1

2014

The Liars

Heraa Hashmi

Copyright © 2014 by Heraa Hashmi

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book
review or scholarly journal.

First Printing:
2014

ISBN
978-1494498221

Superior
, Colorado, 80027

For my parents, my sisters, and my friends.

For Rana, Nur, Marjaan, and Aisha.

Special thank you to Gabrielle and Ella.

Introduction

This story takes place in the fictional kingdom of Helviera. The Eastcote family had ruled for generations, but it was time for things to change.

Chapter 1

Memory sighed for the umpteenth time.

The funeral procession of the two year old prince was the only thing anyone seemed to care about that day. Napkins were left littered about, muffins turned crusty, and tea went cold as her coworkers kept their eyes trained on the TV screen, some crying and some wrinkling their noses in disgust. They were completely oblivious of the frustrated customers in the café. One elderly couple even stood up, spat at the ground, and shoved their way out.

“Rachel!” Memory snapped, and the blonde girl jumped. “Table five needs cleaning. And tell Julian to fix the coffee machine.”

She nodded before scurrying away, frighte
ned. Memory hissed at her back in return. If she got verbally abused from Lisa, their boss, one more time, she was going to murder the next person who dared to breathe.

The café was a quaint one,
located near Whecombe Pass and fairly close to the local university. Being a waitress wasn’t Memory’s first choice in part time jobs, but it paid well and the hours were flexible–possibly the only advantages of working in the blasted place.

Her coworkers–calling them friends, or even acquaintances would be an overstatement–
were like little beetles. They would get the job done only if they were told exactly what to do. And when they weren’t being ordered around by Memory–or Viletta, the only other person who had at least half a brain–they either slept in the back corner or cruised around spilling coffee everywhere as they watched TV, the latter of which being the reason why Memory was currently sopping wet and mopping the floor angrily. Apparently, Rachel decided it’d be a good idea to carry around a tray of water in one hand while listening to music on her iPod. In roller blades.

Great going, Rachel. If you don’t get fired soon…

Memory swiped the last of the glass into the dustpan and hastily ordered Kyle to dump it in the back once he was done fixing the coffee machine. The poor kid, his second day on the job, nodded obediently.

Thankfully, it was almost noon. As she slipped into a
change of clothes, raking her wet curls out of her face, she made a mental list of the things she needed to do today.

Two essays, I think that lab in Physics is due, and
oh yeah, Lulu.

Lulu, her younger sister, would be arriving home after a three week school field trip to a deserted island. While living without her
had been painful, Memory was glad her sister had gotten the opportunity to leave the country for the first time. Especially since the trip was paid for by the school.

The first time those stingy brats did something nice,
she snorted ungracefully as she grabbed Viletta’s car keys and made her way outside.

She, barely making ends
meet with her part time job, more often than not turned to Viletta for help. She borrowed her car often, and in return, let her friend sleep over whenever time allowed. Viletta, however annoying, had her uses. A means of transportation was one of them.

The traffic only intensified her
irritation. It was due to the sudden death of the Prince; so many were traveling north to take part in the procession. Memory found this odd obsession the people had in other people’s lives abysmal–who had time to cry over others’ worries when they had so many of their own?

Not to mention
that she was going to be late to the airport because of this. The battery of the cell phone she owned, cheap and cracked, wouldn’t last the drive at this point. Then what?

Ho
nks blared loudly around her. She groaned. Either the highways needed to be expanded or royal family affairs kept personal and
not
have the world bombarded with their personal issues.

Sighing, Memory glanced at the roads, trying to find an exit. The airport was forty miles away, and Lulu’s flight would land at half past noon.

Frustrated, she swerved out of the lane, cutting off a stream of cars merging in. She turned sharply onto an exit that led onto a bridge and went the other direction. There were far less cars and this road, although she’d be going the long way around, would be faster than if she took the main road.

It was just her luck that a sudden stop sign awaited her at the turn.
A glistening white car zoomed towards her from the right, but she was speeding too fast as she slammed the breaks, feeling her heart lurch forward. The white car approached quickly. Blood pounded in her ears. Her sweaty hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. After two panicky seconds, her grey eyes widened as the person in the white car hit the brakes. The white car slammed into hers. Both vehicles spun away, Memory screeching as her car ran into the stop sign. She didn’t notice as it fell, black dotting her vision.

At some point, the airbag had been released, but she still felt like she
was moving. Her stomach lurched, and Memory quickly shoved the door open with her good arm, her other arm sporting angry bruises. Tumbling onto the ground, she breathed heavily, completely zapped of any strength she had.

Although her body ached, the first though
t that went through her mind was the fact that Viletta was going to
kill
her.

Well.
She gritted her teeth angrily.
I’ll just kill the idiot who did this in return.

Some passersby helped her up, others calling for the police, and sh
e limped over to the white car. It had slid towards the other side of the road.

If Viletta’s car had been completely damaged from the front, then this guy’s car was totaled. Destroyed. Gone.

The man in the car shoved his way out of the front seat, the smoke rising up enveloping his face in a cloud of dust. Memory put her hand in front of her eyes, blinded by the sun for a moment, before resting her gaze on him, anger bubbling in her stomach.

She desperately prayed that he wasn’t seriously injured so she could hit him. Though she wasn’t the most ethical of people, hitting injured people was not something she felt comfortable doing.

Unfortunately–or fortunate for him–an ambulance arrived before she could cause any serious damage. And when the medics rushed at her, she suddenly felt the dull ache of her limbs and let herself be swept away in worry.

“You. My car.”

Memory strained to lift her head up from the hospital bed. Dry coughs wracked her body as she tried to speak. When nothing came out, Viletta shoved her back onto the bed.

“Always knew you were trouble.” She scowled and crossed her arms. “I had to take a freaking cab here. Why am I your only contact in emergencies?”

Viletta was the only family she had, really. Her grandparents were dead, and parents…she’d best not think about them.

“How exactly are you going to pay for this?”

Memory pointed to herself and rasped out a painful “Me?”, and when Viletta nodded, she did a half-hearted attempt at shrugging. Inside, she wracked her brain for any possible way out of the situation – it wasn’t her fault, was it? Except, she’d get charged for running a stop sign anyway, and
the rent this month was strain enough. There was no way she could pay for the hospital bill
and
the fine
and
for her small apartment unless she agreed to starve for seventeen days.

At that though
t, she suddenly jumped out of the bed, yanking the IV needle out of her arm with a surprising amount of energy. Viletta looked horrified.

“What–
Memory, stop. I need to tell you something!”

Memory gasped for air, huffing. “I’m fine.” She waved her hands around. “Don’t need to be here any longer.”

She shoved her way out of the small room, ducking as a nurse approached. Of course, that only made her look more suspicious as she was still wearing a hospital gown.

The nurse stared at her oddly as she tried to cover her face
with the leaves of a decorative office plant. Shocked at what she was doing, the nurse down her clipboard and lunged for the girl. Memory shrieked, diving out of the way and running down the marble hallways of the hospital.

The floor was extremely cold, cold enough for Memory to realize that she was barefoot. She dodged around a corner, where a line of staff raised an eyebrow at her in curiosity.

Memory laughed nervously, slowing down to a walk.

“Where can I find my clothes?” She asked, hearing Viletta’s voice filtering in from around the corner. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”

One of the nurses looked skeptical but still answered. “Just that way, miss.” He pointed to the adjacent hallway, and she zoomed away, trying to keep the light gown from falling off.

What do they make this out of? Freaking toilet paper?

She held the straps tightly, trying to retie them but the effort was futile. Luckily, she found her torn clothes, neatly washed and pressed, hanging on a rack. She ducked into the nearest restroom, hiding in a stall as Viletta’s shouting echoed outside.

“Memory! Where in the world are you? I have to talk to you, it’s important!” Her high-pitched voice made Memory cringe.

Feeling much more comfortable in her own clothes, she poked her head outside, turning side to side to make sure Viletta or the nurse who’d been chasing after her wasn’t there, and ran off to the main lobby.

What greeted her w
as a chaotic sight. Officers were bustling about and a man with his arm in a sling was shouting loudly as doctors and nurses surrounded him, pleading him to sit down. There were four guards near the entrance, holding back what seemed to be a crowd of reporters.

As soon as Memory approached, cameras begun to flash, and she reflexively shielded her face with her arms.

“What’s going on?!” Her question was lost among the crowd’s yelling, and two of the bulky guards shoved the last of the reporters outside, sliding the glass door shut. The nosy people still shoved themselves up against the glass, their cameras stuck in a permanent state of clicking.

The man with his arm in a sling slammed his good hand down onto the only table in the lobby. Everyone immediately silenced, including Memory, who raised an eyebrow. It was the first time she saw who’d hit her, and for some odd reason, he looked quite familiar.

He was taller than her, but seeing as she was below average height, almost every man towered over her. His hair was an unnatural shade of brown, falling in silky waves across his forehead. As he stroked his chin, Memory noticed his strong jaw line, sharp features, and startlingly blue eyes. Bluer than anything she’d ever seen.

“This is madness.” He started in a low tone. “I specifically asked to be transported to the city hospital.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” An officer replied. “We hadn’t identified you until you arrived, and by then your arm was already in a bad state. If we’d waited any longer–”

The man frowned, resting his hand on the sling around his other arm. “I find it odd that you couldn’t identify the son of the king. I don’t doubt he won’t be happy when he finds out.”

Everyone in the room paled, with the exception of Memory, whose blood ran cold.

The Prince
? The bloody Prince ran into me? How in the…
Ah, that’s how she felt like she knew him. His face was probably plastered across screens more often than actual important people.

The silence started to become suffocating, and Memory, fearing that she’d be charged for the entire ordeal, spoke up.

“Excuse me?” She spoke loudly, and the Prince turned to her. His gaze intensified. “Why the heck did you run your car into mine?”

His eyes widened
in amusement as he smirked at her ragged attire. “Are you accusing me of–”

“The evidence is pretty obvious.” Memory pulled up her sleeve, which was dotted with bruises. The rest of her body had little purple welts, reminders of this idiotic situation. “
I
wasn’t the one speeding, and
I
wasn’t the one who crashed into another person.” She snarled and immediately heard someone hiss in response.

It was Viletta, sidling up next to her.

“I was trying to tell you!” She seethed, huffing from what probably had been a round trip around the hospital looking from her. “You ran into the Prince, idiot.”

“I didn’t!” Memory protested, and an officer cleared his throat.

“You ran a stop sign, ma’am, I’m afraid I have to–”

“And what about him?” Memory pointed at
the Prince. “He nearly killed me!”

The officer shook his head. “There is no evidence of that,
ma’am. And he wasn’t speeding in the least.”

Like hell he wasn’t.
“He was.” She pleaded. “Ask anyone who saw! I was trying to reverse when his stupid white car hit mine.”

“I didn’t, and you were in the way.”
The Prince interjected, and Memory’s jaw dropped, aghast.

“You–speedin
g–are you insane?!” She laughed mockingly. “Are you blaming this on
me
?”