“It’s been too long,” he said, grinning.
The sparse room felt tight and cramped, packed full of all the things they needed to say and reconcile. The moment was no longer mine. It was theirs.
“So, I’m just going to…” I made it out of the room in record time.
* * *
After I’d spoken with my nurse and changed into my regular clothes, I found Ana camped out in the lobby with a sultry-looking stack of romance novels and an even sultrier-looking cup of coffee, and she nearly dropped both when she saw me. “Your mother found you? She is with your father?”
I nodded, still overwhelmed by everything the last few hours had brought. “I think they needed some time to talk.”
“Of course they did. Oh, Liv.”
She leaned forward like she was preparing to scoop me up in one of her big hugs, but if she did that, I was pretty sure I would dissolve again, and I wasn’t entirely sure my tear ducts could handle another crying session. Also, seeing her was making me think about my last conversation with Theo, and I was most definitely not ready to add that to the heap of worries in my mind.
I moved toward the door. “I think I could use some time on my own.”
“Of course,” she said again. “I will stay here with your father and mother. His levels are looking better, but the staff said they would like to keep him for another day for observation. Theo has gone to get us some proper breakfast. He’ll be back soon.”
My heart quickened. “I think I’ll just… head back up to the bookstore. I’ll take the bus.”
“Theo will go with you!” she said.
It took everything not to actually sprint for the door. “Thank you, but no, I can find my way on my own.”
“I will send Theo to check on you later,” she called.
“Not necessary,” I said.
The walk to the bus stop was long. I was exhausted and sticky in the shorts and T-shirt I’d originally worn to Akrotiri. I desperately needed a shower, and some real sleep, but my mind was too full to think about that. I was circling on my family’s story and the way I’d twisted it to include the lost city of Atlantis, when, really, it hadn’t been about Atlantis at all.
Here’s the thing I really couldn’t get over: how hard my dad had worked. He’d fought for his life. He’d done the work to get healthy. He’d built me a bookstore on the most magical island I’d ever seen, and he’d figured out a way to make good on all the adventures we’d planned. But most of all, he’d tried. Even when the chances of rejection were unbelievably high.
Could we possibly find what we’d lost?
I needed to think. Unravel. I had so much to piece together and work through, but what I really had was a story. My story.
Once upon a time there was an island so perfect and beautiful that it angered the gods.
Once upon a time there was an island.
Once upon a time.
I needed a way to process this. To record it. Maybe I needed to tell my dad my side of the story, the same way he’d told me his. What was lost is now found. My thoughts drifted to the shoebox, all those items piecing together a story.
And that’s when I had the idea.
Chapter Twenty-Five
#25. THE LAST PAGE OF PLATO’S TIMAEUS AND CRITIAS, TORN OUT OF A BOOK, THE FINAL PASSAGE HIGHLIGHTED
“Zeus, the god of gods, who rules according to law, and is able to see into such things, perceiving that an honorable race was in a woeful plight, and wanting to inflict punishment on them, that they might be chastened and improve, collected all the gods into their most holy habitation, which, being placed at the center of the world, beholds all created things. And when he had called them together, he spake as follows—”
It cuts off after that; the rest of Plato’s words were lost. We’ll never know what Zeus said to all those gods. I guess the rest was left up to us.
I RAN STRAIGHT BACK TO Ana, told her I actually would be needing Theo’s services after all and to have him meet me at the bookstore, and then sprinted back to the bus stop for what had to be the longest, twistiest ride of my riding-the-bus-in-Santorini career so far. My head was thick with ideas. How long did I have to pull this off? One day? Two? The time constraints were ridiculous, but if I could talk Theo into helping me, I might just be able to make it work.
The bookstore was shuttered and lonesome feeling, but once I was inside I ignored all that, gathering my sketch pad and oil pastels and setting up shop right in the center of the store. I taped a row of papers across the main wall of the bookstore, divided them into little squares, then went to work filling them in, drawing, then writing, then drawing some more, until finally my idea began to take shape. By the time I finished two hours later, my entire arm was on fire from all the work, and my head buzzed with exhaustion, but I could see the summit.
When I finally heard Theo at the door, my chest exploded in a combination of excitement and panic. He may say no, and I’d have to be okay with that. But if he said yes…
I’d been up checking my phone in the bunk room, and I dropped out, spider-monkey style. “Theo?”
“AAAH!” He stumbled backward, gripping his chest.
“Sorry. So, so sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Although, I guess now we’re even?”
“My mom said you need help with something.” His hair was strangely tame, and he put his hands in his pockets, a move designed to look casual, but that in all our time together, I hadn’t seen him do once. He wasn’t quite looking at me, but he was talking to me, and I was going to count that as a win.
“Theo…” I took a deep breath. If I was going to pull this off, we’d have to start immediately. We didn’t have time to address the giant pink elephant standing between us. Hopefully there would be time for that later.
“Theo, I have an idea. It’s something for my dad, and I have to get it done fast. Will you help?” I pointed to my drawings, and he walked over to give them a closer look. He looked at them for what felt like an eternity, moving piece by piece through the layout. By the time he turned around, he still looked distant but also impressed. “I’m in,” he said.
We went through what felt like ninety hours of footage. A hundred hours of footage? It was difficult to watch my interactions with my dad, because it highlighted all the ways I’d misjudged him. But what I hadn’t prepared for was how difficult it would be to watch myself through Theo’s camera—through his eyes.
From the moment he’d begun his interrogation at the airport, Theo had truly seen me, capturing me in a way that was so raw and unfiltered that it hurt to look at. I’d thought I was so invincible, with my smooth bangs and carefully applied eyeliner, but you could see my fear and worry, all that vulnerability I’d dragged right alongside my overstuffed suitcase. What was even more surprising to watch was the way the images of me evolved. It was like witnessing a butterfly transforming in reverse. Slowly but surely, I’d let go of my perfectly constructed persona, physically, but emotionally as well. As the days wore on, I’d stopped looking so polished and careful and started looking more like me. It was like I had finally given myself permission to sink into my skin.