Deadly Silence (complete) Chapter 122

Samuel hadn’t allowed Vivian to be alone once she’d gotten home, no matter how much she insisted that everything was fine. Instead, she’d been told she had to stay in the living room where, to her surprise, Gilbert had been waiting for their arrival.

His injury was a bit over a week old now, but he seemed to be well on his way to a full recovery. “Gilbert will be keeping you company,” her father had said as she, reluctantly, sat on the couch. “You are to remain here and relax.”

“Being forced to relax isn’t very relaxing,” she’d muttered, her father chuckling in response, but she decided not to fight him on the matter. Gilbert’s presence was more like a statue than a person anyway, so if he wanted to hang out and keep her company it was almost as good as being left alone.

Samuel was in and out throughout the day — he’d returned to the meet for all of Laurent’s events, but also wanted to keep Vivian company as much as possible — and finally stayed for good once Laurent’s last event had finished.

Both Sebastian and Gabriel soon joined, settling in to make running commentaries on whatever movie was playing. Everyone kept the atmosphere light, or so Vivian felt, until they all suddenly left and Theo appeared.

Then, he’d opened up to her about things she’d never know, and he never once touching the topic she’d been expecting him to ask about. Actually, not a single one of them had asked her about what happened on the track that morning, for which she was both thankful and worried. It was only a matter of time before their patience with her ran out.

Theo thanking her only made the ache in her chest all the worse. He didn’t know the truth; that her very presence in his life was putting him in danger.

Vivian couldn’t bear to look at him. She couldn’t understand why he’d come by, or why he felt the need to tell her about his father or his insecurities.

And then, as if somehow compelled, she’d actually said it out loud. “Because I’m the reason you’re in danger.”

The regret that consumed her after uttering those words made her want to run and hide, but his grip on her hand never faltered. Was he angry? Disappointed? Scared?

“Can you explain why I’m in danger?” Theo asked after a brief silence. His tone was curious, nothing more.

*Of course he doesn’t believe me*, she realized, feeling relieved. *Why would he?* “Never mind…” she muttered.

“I’m not going to let it go, Vivian,” he told her, hand squeezing hers a bit tighter. “I want to know. No matter how bad it is, I’d rather know about it.”

Mind racing, Vivian couldn’t see a way out of the conversation. If she refused to explain, he could turn around and tell her father or brothers about what was said; if she relented and spilled the truth, Theo would regret opening up to someone like her. Why wouldn’t he? It was only logical.

Was there a way to spin this to appease him, without giving away the whole truth?

*No, I can’t… do that to him,* she told herself. *It’s not… I hate when Samuel does it to me, just circling around the thing he doesn’t want to say… and yet that’s exactly what I do to everyone else.*

“I…” she began, but found she couldn’t continue. It was like her body was against letting go of anything she’d kept bottled up over the years. Was it a sign? Did her body understand the need for silence? Or was it only reacting how she’d taught it to?

Theo’s grip on her hand never lessened. He actually placed his other hand overtop hers, as if to prove he wasn’t going anywhere.

The marshmallows she’d been eating felt heavy in her stomach. “I… can’t…” she finally managed to get out. Her chest felt tight as her free hand gripped her shirt.

“Vivian,” Theo began, voice soft. “There’s a difference between can’t and won’t, and I think you mean you won’t tell me, because you *feel* like you can’t. But you *can* tell me, if that’s what you really want.”

Did she want to tell him? Not really... but he wasn’t wrong. The only thing preventing her from talking was herself. There was no physical wall, no reason for her voice to suddenly stop working except her own mind warning her it was a bad idea.

Something in her calmed at his words, though she didn’t know why. It wasn’t like they’d been particularly kind, but they *had* been the truth. Theo had understood her struggle without any explanation. What else had he noticed?

Vivian found herself looking at him again, searching his face for the answers she sought. How much had he seen? Was he like Samuel, where even the smallest bit of information could reveal a bigger picture? “What… do you know?” The words had come out wrong, but she had hope he would, like before, understand the meaning she tried to convey. She wasn’t accusing him of not thinking he knew the full picture, but asking that he share what he’d figured out.

A frown creased Theo’s brow, but his eyes never left hers as he seemed to think about his answer. “You avoid things that let people get to know you,” he said, after a pause. “Instead of answering questions, you dance around the it and let people reach their own conclusion, whether it’s right or not. You don’t care what other people think about you, but… I think that’s because you don’t want to care about them. I’m not really sure why you let Miriam in, but you did. Then you… sort of let me in, too. Not much, but it was enough. Why do you keep people at arms length, anyway? I can understand if you had a bad experience in foster care or something, but that doesn’t make sense with what I’ve seen.”

There was a change in his expression as he finished speaking, as if something had suddenly ocurred to him. “You said I was lucky I didn’t know my dad, so I couldn’t miss him. That losing someone like that is really painful. Who did you lose?”

Vivian found she couldn’t look away from Theo, hoping he would find the answer without her needing to say anything. She’d never thought about what would happen if someone found the right answer. For eight years, everyone could only guess at the truth; some had guessed correctly but, without Vivian confirming it, they couldn’t prove anything. Theo… He had figured things out using context clues she’d let slip, some without meaning to, and was on the cusp of knowing — truly *knowing* — the truth.