Deadly Silence (complete) Chapter 63

Vivian let out a sigh as she turned back to the screen. Chatting with Gabriel had always been easy while Laurent had been like a brick wall, so why was she finding herself suddenly wanting to confide in the youngest of her three brothers? “They’ll get bored soon enough and leave me alone. They always do.”

“What if I told you they won’t get bored,” he offered offhandedly as they raced.

Taking a second to think about it, Vivian shrugged her shoulders again. “Then they won’t.”

A frustrated noise came from Laurent at her words. “How come you aren’t angry about it?”

“I can’t control what other people do or don’t do,” she explained. “All I can control is what I do. The rest isn’t worth the time or effort.”

The fourth race ended with Vivian in last place again. A cinematic played showing Laurent’s character winning the gold cup while her angry, moustached character hadn’t so much as gained a single point in the rankings.

“So you just let everyone walk all over you?”

The anger in his voice caught Vivian’s attention. Why was he getting worked up over all this, anyway? She opened her mouth to answer but closed it after a second. After a minute she tried again. “There’s more to life than winning pointless fights. Knowing when to fight and when to back down… that’s how you survive.”

“Survive?” He scoffed a little, earning a cold look from his sister. “It’s high school, not life or death, but you still need to stand up for yourself.”

“Why?” She countered, voice clipped as she spun the chair to face him.

“Because... Because otherwise no one will take you seriously. Everyone will think less of you.”

“I can’t control what people think, Laurent, and I don’t even care what they think about me. The other students? They don’t matter to me.”

“Why not? They can make your life hell if you act like an easy target.”

“Why should people matter when they’re only ever in my life for short periods of time?” She demanded in a frosty voice. “Why should I spend my time fighting to be accepted only to do it all over again when I get moved to a new family?”

Her answer had caught Laurent by surprise and she knew it. His eyes had widened then narrowed, his expression becoming almost pinched as he glared at her. “You make it sound like you’ll be sent back.”

“I always am,” she told him, tone curt as she stood up and placed the controller on the chair. “I know better than to get attached.”

Vivian didn’t give him time to respond, leaving the room and not even checking the door had closed in her wake as she retreated to her own bedroom.

Inside her safe space, she leaned against the door for a minute, trying to understand what had just taken place. Laurent was frustrating; stubborn, so stuck in his ways and not wanting to see things from her point of view. To him it seemed like everything was about standing your ground no matter what; all fights had to be won or the war would be lost.

On the other hand, Vivian knew to pick and choose her battles, that survival wasn’t about winning every time, or ever, but knowing when to bend and when to stand firm. She wouldn’t call herself an expert at making the right call but she had enough experience to know there was a difference.

Laurent had always had a safety net to catch him if things got bad — his family — while Vivian had always been forced to look out for herself.

She’d just experienced a very bad day and it felt like every conversation was turning into an interrogation. Everyone wanted to know everything and she just wanted to put it all behind her, in the past where she could ignore it forever.

Why was everyone so hell bent on making her suffer so much? What did it matter if someone threw her things in the shower? So what? It’s not like it did any permanent damage.

The shooting and subsequent car chase was a different matter altogether, but Gilbert had been there, had seen more, and understood the situation better than she ever could, so why was she being cornered? So what if she’d been shot at before; how was it relevant now?

If this had been just another foster home Vivian would have walked out the front door and wandered the night away to help clear her mind. Unfortunately, this wasn’t just another foster home and Samuel could, and would, track her phone to find her if she decided to mock run away for the night to clear her mind. Turning off her GPS locator was out of the question; it would result in a man hunt — of that she was certain. Samuel was the type to go all out if he didn’t know where she was — at least that was the impression she’d gotten from things.

There was also the whole ‘just got shot at for unknown reasons’ and Detective Paul Oglivie out there; whether the two were connected or not didn’t matter. Even one of those meant her life was in danger and dying wasn’t on Vivian’s to-do-list.

As things were, she was stuck in her room for now. If she wandered the house someone was apt to see her and, even if it began with small talk, any conversation would eventually bring up the day’s happenings.

Walking around the massive property was an option until she realized if someone noted she wasn’t in her room they’d go looking for her and that meant dealing with a person face to face.

It had been a long time since she’d felt this frustrated.

A knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts and she debated whether to get up from where she’d slid down said door to sit on the floor.

“Vivian? Dinner’s here,” she heard Gabriel say.

All three brothers were home on a Wednesday because of her. The last thing she felt like doing was facing them and her father right now. “Don’t wait for me,” she said, pushing herself back to her feet. “I’m not hungry. Just gonna do some homework and go to bed.”

“… Vivian…” Gabriel’s voice came through the door sounding a bit worried. “Can you at least open the door?”

Instead of answering, she made her way to the bathroom where she stripped and stepped into the shower, turning it on the coldest setting. It didn’t take long for her teeth to start chattering and goosebumps to cover her body but she refused to adjust it.

One very cold shower later, she stepped back into the bedroom with the intention of doing homework — she wasn’t a liar, after all — only to realize she had no idea where her school bag was. Gilbert had dumped it out — into a pool of his own blood — and tore through it before shoving everything back in. He’d kept it in his hand the rest of the drive home and carried it inside. He was then ushered away to the infirmary and Vivian had followed but she couldn’t recall if he’d brought it with him or left it in the foyer.

Not that she planned on going down to retrieve it even if she did remember where it’d been left.

Sighing, she decided it was best to just go to bed even if it was early in the evening. The constant surges of adrenaline coupled with the early morning and torturous running had left her feeling both mentally and physically exhausted.

Yes, sleep was the best option.