Deadly Silence (complete) Chapter 35

“Why don’t you join me down at the station? I can get you some hot chocolate or something to eat and we can talk there?”

“Show me your badge.” It wasn’t a question and Vivian didn’t care if it came out sounding rude; she knew better than to trust someone saying they were something without some form of proof. Like hell she was getting in a car with the detective without verifying she was what she said she was.

The detective pulled her badge out of an inner pocket of her blazer, flashing it at Vivian before tucking it away.

“No, I want to actually see it.”

Amelia frowned a little, but pulled it out again, placing it on Vivian’s outstretched hand.

Studying it, Vivian looked at the number engraved along the edge of the badge, then at the ID card opposite with the detective’s name and basic information.

It seemed legitimate, though Vivian wouldn’t know the difference one way or another. Instead of gambling on it, she took out her phone and snapped a photo just in case, drawing an angry noise from the detective. “You can’t do that,” she told Vivian, snatching her badge back. “I need you to delete that photo.”

“I will after our conversation,” Vivian replied with a shrug, locking her phone and dropping it in her school bag. “Consider it your deposit on our conversation.”

“Deposit?”

Vivian glanced up at the woman as she spoke. “Yes. If you only ask me things I’ve already answered a hundred times, I get to keep the photo and file an official complaint of you harassing me. If you ask me something new, I’ll delete it and skip the complaint.”

Amelia let out a laugh. “Are you seriously trying to blackmail me right now?”

“It’s not blackmail,” Vivian retorted, crossing her arms. “It’s my insurance that my time won’t be wasted. Like I said, I’ve already told multiple people the story a hundred times. You said there was new information, and I don’t know if I believe you. Besides, what’s wrong with me taking a photo of your badge? It’s not like I can 3D print myself a copy, and taking a photo is faster than writing down the badge number myself.”

Detective Mersey pursed her lips before nodding. “Alright, I can live with that. But… in the future, don’t take photos of a badge — just write the number down.”

Vivian was still unsure about going to the station with this woman, regardless of the fact she was a detective. “Oh, I need to let my family know where I’m going,” she suddenly remembered, a little mad at herself for being distracted from her earlier dilemma. At least now she had an answer to her question.

“Don’t worry about it,” the detective reassured Vivian as she led the way to an unmarked police car parked near the corner. “I’ll have an officer at the station get in touch with your family for you and explain what’s going on.”

This didn’t settle Vivian’s nerves on the matter and she reached for her phone anyway. “It’s fine. I can do it.”

“Is… your father making you update him on everywhere you go?” The tone of voice Amelia used made Vivian frown. It sounded almost accusing but with an under current of pity.

“Is it so bad that a father wants to make sure his daughter is staying safe?”

The detective opened the rear passenger door and gave Vivian a small smile. “Of course not. But… I just worry you’re not allowed to have the same freedom you used to.”

What did that even mean? “Okay?”

Letting out a sigh, Detective Mersey removed her sunglasses from her head and spun them around in her hand for a couple seconds. “Well, I know your foster families pretty much gave you the space you needed to be yourself, didn’t they? You probably find your new life a little… stifling.”

What she said was true, in a sense, though Vivian would never admit it out loud. Her foster families had been lax on parenting, which was fine because she’d needed the space and freedom to figure her shit out in those first few years.

As she’d gotten older, the lack of care was still a non-issue, but Vivian had begun to feel alone in the world. The families acted like they cared but always put their own needs first. The social workers were paid to care. Not having someone care enough about what she did during her free time was a freedom that came at a steep cost.

The two families who’d paid attention to her had been suffocating. They needed to know every little detail, needing to read any messages sent or received no matter who it was from. She hadn’t been allowed to leave the house without one of the parents with her, hadn’t been trusted with spare change for a candy bar.

Having experienced both ends of the control spectrum, Vivian had honestly found Samuel’s approach a happy medium for how she usually led her life.

He wouldn’t interfere — or shouldn’t — but wanted to know her whereabouts. It meant he cared enough to keep track of his children, but that he was also trusting them to make the right choices.

‘Was it too much freedom’ would have been a better question than if it was stifling.

This detective didn’t know anything about Vivian and it made the girl wonder if there was actually any new information to be heard.

*Does it matter? I need to know for sure. Besides, Samuel can track my phone so even if I don’t text him he’ll know where I am.*

Deciding to appease the woman, Vivian stopped reaching for her phone and watched the detective relax just a touch; it was almost unnoticeable but Vivian was very good at reading a person’s body language. According to the therapist she’d been forced to see until she’d turned eleven, it was a trick someone learned when surviving an abusive situation.

Knowing the abuser’s minute changes in expression told the abused how to react in an attempt to mitigate any given situation.

Not that it was fool proof, but her success rate was quite high.

Vivian slid into the back seat of the vehicle, swinging her school bag onto her lap before buckling the seat belt. *Time to see what Detective Amelia Mersey is all about.*