CHAPTER 48
ATLAS XPANOS
Sitting in my office, once again trying to decipher the riddle the Nina-and-Nero case has become, I arrive at the same conclusion I’ve reached every other time: it’s obvious this was staged—but how do you prove it?
The inconsistencies in the evidence are clear. The supposed timeline doesn’t line up. But the biggest inconsistency of all is the investigator Lysandra hired.
The man is known in his field. He doesn’t live in Greece. Putting himself at the service of a setup for money seems… weak.
Maybe a personal favor?
By my own means, I haven’t identified any financial transaction between Lysandra and him beyond what would be expected in a legitimate investigation. Still, everything about this story feels wrong.
There’s no point appealing to Nero’s common sense. He decided to shove it up his ass and carry on with his life drunk and embittered. Any mention of Nina is enough to plunge him into a deplorable state.
But I need to help her. I need to help them. There’s a child involved in this mess—a child I like to think would have been my godchild. A completely innocent child.
And even if Nina were guilty of everything she’s being accused of—which I don’t believe for a second—I would still stand by her. No one in her position should be left without support. Least of all someone who has done nothing wrong.
I know people. I learned to read intentions very young. And Nina has an innocence and a gentleness that couldn’t be easily corrupted.
I just need proof. Proof to show my best friend that he’s an idiot—and wrong—before it’s too late.
As a lawyer, I feel responsible for helping prove Nina’s innocence, even though she never asked me to.
I investigated. I chased every lead. And I found nothing substantial—certainly nothing like the clues and “evidence” the investigator claims to have uncovered. If it were all true, logic dictates I should be able to follow the same trail.
A monitoring app sends a notification, and I lower my gaze to the surface of my desk, finding a new email report on my phone. I scan the listed items, and my eyes land on two purchased tickets: Italy, noon.
Is Nina leaving the country?
I run my hands through my hair, thinking a million thoughts at once. She’s running. She’s fleeing.
My eyes dart to the clock. I still have time to reach her before boarding.
If she runs with the baby, Nero will move heaven and earth to brand her guilty. An impulsive decision will only make something already disastrous even worse.
I don’t even look for my car. I jump into the first taxi that passes.
“Airport, please. Fast.”
That’s all I say before focusing all my attention on the phone in my hand.
I select Nina’s contact and place the call, gripping the device tightly, trying to reach her before she does something irreversible.
Damn it, Nero. Cornered people make desperate choices—that was exactly what I was afraid of.
I need to talk to her. Try to stop her. Offer help. Offer proof of her innocence. But for that, she needs to answer the phone.
I get out of the taxi at a run and enter the airport already scanning for Nina. My eyes sweep the crowd, searching for any sign of her.
The hum of overlapping conversations and flight announcements fills the space, but I’m so focused on finding her that I barely hear any of it. My mind races, trying to figure out how I’ll convince her to stay—and how to make her understand I’m willing to help.
I think I spot her in the distance, near the boarding gate, and I quicken my pace. I finally get close enough to see her clearly—holding a small shoulder bag. No luggage.
“Nina! Wait!” I call her name. “Please, Nina!” I insist, slipping past the barrier straps to reach her.
She shakes her head, glancing around, but I can’t do what she’s silently asking of me. I can’t. It would be wrong.
I take her hands in mine and hold her gaze. What I find there is pain and sorrow. I want to pull her into a hug—but I don’t.
“We can prove your innocence, Nina. But I can’t do that if you’re not here.” I’m brief. Clear. “To help you, I need your help. I promise I’ll do everything I can to clear your name and prove you’re innocent.”
She lets out a dry laugh and looks at me almost with pity.
“And who would I want to prove anything to, Atlas?”
“Nina—”
“No,” she interrupts. “This island has already hurt me enough. This place isn’t safe for me anymore—or for my child.” She lowers her voice again, eyes scanning her surroundings.
“Are you being coerced? Is someone threatening you? Nina—talk to me. Let me help you.”
“The only help I need from you is for you to stay quiet, Atlas. The same person forcing me to leave can find me wherever I go. This is more serious than a lovers’ quarrel. Much more.”
She’s resolute. The fear embedded in every syllable cuts through me in a way that sets off alarms.
“I promise—if you promise to keep me informed.”
Nina hesitates, then nods. Her mother stands beside her, visibly anxious.
“We need to go. Final boarding call,” Rosa says, taking Nina’s hand.
I step toward the woman with kind eyes and place a card in her palm.
“If you need anything—anything at all—you can find me here. It’s safe. I promise.”
“All right, son. Thank you.”
I look at Nina one last time, my gaze dropping to her belly. She looks back at me, and I ask quietly,
“Take good care of my nephew, Nina.”
“I will,” she replies with a faint smile.
I know this will be the last time I see her for a long while—and I mourn for my brother, for everything he’s losing from this moment on without even realizing it.
I stay at the airport long enough to watch the plane take off, certain that on the wings of that machine, Nero’s happiness is flying away—while I stand there, unmoving, praying in silence that when the moment of truth comes, it won’t be too late.