Deadly Silence (complete) Chapter 12

“Ah, you’re awake,” came Samuel’s voice before he entered the kitchen area. “The memorial service starts this afternoon at two. The plan is to get there early, so a light lunch at eleven thirty, which allows time to get ready and the drive there with traffic. Have you picked out an outfit?”

“Uhm…” Vivian was too caught off guard to have an answer ready, so she stood there feeling awkward as her father passed by. Did she have anything suitable for a memorial service? Out of all the clothes they bought yesterday there had to be *something*. “Yes, I think.”

“Great,” he continued, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot that must have automatically turned on earlier to have the brew ready when everyone woke up. He seemed to hesitate when setting the pot back down. “I want to apologize for last night.”

That feeling of ice returned to her gut as Vivian’s hands clenched into fist until she forced them to relax. “It’s fine,” she told him, cutting off the next sentence he’d been about to say. “Don’t worry about it.”

As she spoke, she picked up her toast and walked out of the room, unsure where to go from there.

This was how she ended up back in her room, finishing the last bites of her meagre breakfast as the door closed behind her.

Did she have anything suitable for a memorial service? Was a memorial different than a funeral? Vivian had never been to one before, and no one had really spoken to her about the ins and outs of the affair.

A safe bet, she surmised, would be dark clothing.

Her brothers and father all seemed to dress well, even when there was no need for it, while her style was more about casual comfort in cheap clothes. This was no longer her style according to what she’d bought the other day.

Her style had a much wider range now and Vivian was both excited and anxious to try out new looks. Not that anyone currently in her life would know if something was new to her or not, style wise, but *she* would know and that mattered.

Stepping into her closet, Vivian spent the next hour figuring out what would be appropriate for the occasion, then narrowed it down even further.

Having few clothes had made life simple. What should she wear today? Well, there were only five things to choose from.

Now it felt like she had fifty and the feeling of being overwhelmed hit again as she sat on the floor in the closet and stared at the clothes around her, wondering how her life had gotten to this point.

It wasn’t right. None of this felt right.

Balling her hands into fists, she gritted her teeth as the nails on her fingers bit into the palms of her hands. It was only once her thoughts cleared that she relaxed her fingers to stare at the angry red crescents that dotted her palms.

Angry at herself, Vivian shoved everything from her mind except what needed to be dealt with at that moment in time.

Finding the appropriate attire.

—

The memorial service was being held in a hotel’s ballroom. The hotel itself was at least twenty stories tall, giving Vivian a crick in her neck when she tilted her head back to see how far up it went.

There wasn’t time to see much more before she was being led inside. All the people working greeted them with a smile, speaking as if the family were frequent guests.

Sebastian had driven in with them while Gabriel was coming a little later with Laurent, which gave Vivian some time to, maybe, get to know her eldest brother a bit more.

Unlike Gabriel, who seemed the more relaxed sibling, and Laurent who was the most volatile, she hadn’t had a chance to get a feel for Sebastian yet outside of him egging Gabriel on with the car thing the other day. He tended to stay quiet, like she did, and let others do the talking.

Was he more like her? Was she like him?

Vivian glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as he stood a bit to the side, one hand in a pocket as he looked around as though memorizing everything in sight.

“Why don’t you two go into the room and get settled,” Samuel offered, though it felt more like an order than a suggestion.

Sebastian nodded and, with a smile at his sister, led the way to the ballroom where the service had been set up.

A number of tables dotted the floor, chairs carefully set around them and some even on the sides of the room. A podium of sorts was set up at the back with a large framed photo of Vivian’s mother smiling warmly at the room. A beautifully crafted wooden box rested next to the photo and bouquets of black eyed Susans — Annie’s favourite flower — were strategically placed in a multitude of locations throughout the room.

Looking at the tables a bit more closely as Sebastian walked past them, Vivian noted that there were more photos set up on each one, no two the same. They always showed the woman’s smiling face, some with her and the boys as young children and babies, others just herself or with Samuel.

It hurt Vivian to realized there were no photos of her and her mother anywhere — they’d never taken photos together. In fact, it was almost a shock to realize photos of her mother existed at all and she wondered if asking to look through old photo albums would go over well.

Biting her lip, Vivian again pushed those thoughts away, not wanting to deal with them at that moment as Sebastian stopped at the table closest to the large photo by the wooden box.

*Her ashes*, Vivian suddenly realized, eyes locked on the box as she tried to wrestle with the conflicting emotions that surfaced at the realization that all there was left of the woman who’d given birth to her fit inside that small box.

An entire existence reduced to ash.

Forcing herself to turn away, Vivian chose a seat with her back to her mother’s remains, fighting an inner battle against herself.

More than anything she wanted to go touch the box, to feel some sort of connection to it no matter how ridiculous that seemed. But she was a realist and knew nothing of the sort would happen.

When Vivian finally had control over herself again, she looked over at her brother to find him texting on his phone. Was that even appropriate?