Deadly Silence (complete) Chapter 100

There really was no other choice; Vivian had told tell *someone* about Abby having her stuff. The problem was who; who could she trust to simply get her things back from the girl without everything getting worse? Abby knew about the secondary phone and would never keep her mouth shut if she figured out Vivian didn’t want others to know it existed.

Tyrell had moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed as he pressed his hands on her shoulders. “Breathe, Miss. You need to breathe.”

The panic had caused her to forget how to breathe and Vivian let out a gasp as air finally filled her lungs.

*First thing’s first*, Vivian reminded herself as she fought the panic in her chest. *I need to stop them from getting the cops involved.*

“Where’s your phone, Miss Vivian?” Tyrell asked again, his tone gentle as he gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “No matter what happens, you won’t be in trouble. I just need to know where it is.”

There was no way he could keep that promise, no matter how well intentioned he was when making it. Vivian was already in trouble, just not the kind any of them expected. “I… I don’t know,” she finally muttered, unable to meet his gaze. “I need… I want to talk to… someone.”

“Someone?” He repeated, releasing his hold on her and leaning back a bit. “Who? I’ll bring them in immediately.”

Vivian opened her mouth but shut it after a second. Who *did* she need to talk to the most? Who could she trust in this situation? “Uhm… Mr Devreaux.”

Nodding, Tyrell pulled out his phone and made the call. “Mr Devreaux, Miss Vivian would like to speak with you.” Whether anything was said on the other end Vivian wasn’t sure, but the call ended almost immediately after her bodyguard finished his sentence.

It didn’t take more than a minute for her father to enter the room, nodding at Tyrell who then stepped outside and shut the door. Samuel turned to his daughter, giving her a once over with his eyes before sitting in the spot the other man had just vacated. “How are you feeling?” He asked, eyes now scanning her face.

The scrutiny made Vivian feel uncomfortable and she looked away. “I’ve been better.”

He let out a low chuckle. “At least you didn’t answer with ‘I’m fine’ again.”

Grimacing, Vivian shrugged her shoulders. The silence that settled over them wasn’t tense but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” He inquired after a minute, probably realizing she was stalling.

“I…” She stopped and sighed. There was no way to say any of this without giving something away; she had to choose what was said very carefully so her father wouldn’t be able to figure out even more on his own. “I will tell you who did it on the condition the police aren’t called or involved in any way, and I want to confront them one on one.”

Samuel stared at her for a long moment as he processed her conditions. Would he agree to them and keep his word? What if he said no and still called the police? “Are you saying you don’t want them to be punished for what they did to you?”

Vivian frowned, staring at her hands as they rested in her lap. “I didn’t say that.”

“Vivian… I want to understand, I really do. So please help me understand; can you explain why you’re so scared right now?”

Her breath caught in her throat at his words. Of course he knew she was scared; it was obvious. It didn’t mean he had to come right out and ask about it so bluntly.

“Breathe, Vivian,” he reminded her, taking both her hands in his and giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’m not mad, or disappointed, or anything with you. I’m worried. I *want* to help. I want you to let me at least try to help.”

Nervous, Vivian licked her lips and glanced up at her father, meeting his gaze for a full two seconds before dropping it back to their hands. “It’s… I…” she stuttered, words unable to form in the moment. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I’m… I… have a bit of an issue… with tight spaces.”

“…you’re claustrophobic?” He asked, sounding surprised.

Vivian nodded once. “I thought I’d… gotten over it. But today was…”

Samuel gave her hands another squeeze. “That doesn’t explain why you don’t want the police involved.”

“Would things be this bad if I hadn’t freaked myself out?” She asked, voice low as she clenched her hands.

Taking a minute to think on his answer, Samuel began shaking his head. “You would still have been trapped in there for hours, Vivian. That in itself needs to be addressed. It’s not just about your mental state — though it does play a big part — but what they did to you. The person responsible for this needs to be held accountable.”

“What do you plan on doing to them, then?”

Vivian’s question seemed to catch him off guard, his hands twitching just a little as he held hers. She glanced up to see he was looking at her with a curious expression. “Is that what’s scaring you? You’re worried I’ll go overboard and demand a punishment worse than the crime?”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, that’s… not it…” In truth she expected him to go full nuclear on the girls, but she also knew that thought was there because it was how Paul dealt punishments. No matter how tiny the infraction his punishments were always extreme, something she’d learned in the years since her escape. At the time, being beaten; given only bread, butter, and water; locked in a closet; and others had been the norm for Vivian. It was just how you were punished. When she was placed in her first foster home it was what she expected when she’d accidentally broken a rule. It took more than a year before she came to realize every person had a different idea of what ‘punishment’ should be.

It was still hard to remember that, even eight years later.

“Vivian…” her father called out, bringing her out of the thoughts that’d caught her attention.

“It’s… complicated,” she huffed at him. “I… know you won’t go crazy… but at the same time, what if you did.”

“I see. It’s a matter of trust,” he said, sounding thoughtful instead of hurt like she’d expected. “Have I done something to make you not trust me?”

“…not particularly…”

“Then why not trust me, just a little, with this. You’ll never know who to trust if you don’t trust them a little first.”

Vivian stared at him for a long time, stuck on what he’d said.

*If I want to start trusting him… I have to give him a chance to break it? I’d never thought of it like that before. Is that how trust works? Is suppose to work? That to know if someone can be trusted you have to give them some first?*

Now the question was: should she put trust in her father? The first paternal figure in her life had been Paul and it’d been eight years of hell. Since then, Vivian had never allowed herself to put any trust in her foster fathers, and in turn her foster mothers as well. Unlike her own mom, they were always wanting a cohesive family unit where both parents played an active role in the lives of the children. That meant if the father turned out to be like Paul the mother would support him instead of attempt to protect her like her mom had done.

Samuel had kept his word with her as far as she was aware. If anything, she was the one who didn’t deserve to be trusted. Would he lash out if it was ever revealed she’d snooped through his office? That she was being forced to share any information she found about him to Paul?

“What about my conditions?” She finally asked, breaking the silence.

“I have no issue with your conditions, provided you can agree to mine.”

“Yours?”

Samuel nodded. “Even if the police aren’t involved, whoever did this still needs to be punished. You can have a say in what that punishment is, but it needs to fit the crime.”

“…okay…”

“And I want you to confront them with an adult present — this is for your safety,” he added when she’d given him a look. “I don’t know who did this and don’t want them to attack you once they realize what’s happening.”

Vivian pursed her lips. The conditions were reasonable, though having another person in the room during the confrontation meant whoever it was could learn about the second phone. Would she be able to maneuver someone else into the role of mediator? Someone that wasn’t Samuel? or Tyrell, who’d tell his boss everything that was said?

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “I can live with that.”

“Good. Then I accept your conditions.”

Feeling drained, Vivian let out a sigh. “Their names are Abigail Demoine and Adriana Johnson.”