After brunch, I know it's time to answer questions.
We all sit in the living room, the air too still, too heavy. My hands are cold even though the sun outside burns bright through the window.
Silence stretches thin until Lily finally speaks.
"Vivian, would you mind telling us what happened yesterday?"
My heart skips.
The words feel like a knife pressing against my throat. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I can feel their eyes on me — waiting, searching.
When I don't answer, Mr. Henry speaks gently, his tone full of pity. "Vivian, sweetheart… you can tell us. We just want to help."
Pity. I hate that word. I hate the way it looks on people's faces.
But right now, I need it. I need them to believe me. So, I force my trembling lips to move.
"Someone stabbed my uncle," I say at last.
My voice sounds small, fragile — the kind that begs to be believed. I swallow the lump in my throat before continuing. "It happened last night. One of his… friends came over. He's a drug addict, I think. They were arguing about money or something, and then—" I pause, squeezing my fingers together until my knuckles ache. "Then he stabbed Uncle Luke."
Lisa gasps. "Oh my goodness… Is he alive?"
"I—I don't know," I whisper. "I ran. They were both drunk, yelling, breaking things. I was scared."
The lie rolls out smoothly now, even though it burns in my chest. "After he stabbed my uncle, he tried to take me away with him. Said my uncle owed him money… said I could pay it off for him." My voice shakes at the last part, and I let it. It's close enough to the truth that it hurts to say it.
Lisa's hand flies to her mouth. "Dear God…"
"I managed to run before they could do anything," I continue quickly. "I didn't even take anything with me. I just ran and ran. I didn't know where else to go."
Lily's eyes are wide and wet. She moves closer, wrapping her arms around me tightly.
That warmth—her warmth—cracks something open in me.
I want to tell her everything, the truth, the blood, the knife, the fear.
But I can't.
If I tell her, they'll never look at me the same way again.
Henry leans forward, his voice steady. "You did the right thing by coming here, Vivian. You're safe now, do you hear me? We'll call the police, report what happened."
The police.
The word makes my blood freeze.
"No!" I say too quickly, too sharply. "I mean—please, not yet. I don't even know what's going on. Maybe my uncle's fine, maybe it's just—just a misunderstanding."
I force a broken laugh, one that doesn't sound real even to my own ears.
Henry studies me for a moment, then sighs softly. "Alright. We'll wait until you're ready."
Lily is still hugging me. Lisa sits beside me, gently rubbing my back as if I'll shatter if she stops.
The kindness hurts more than the pain.
Tears burn my eyes again, and this time I let them fall. Because I need them to believe this story. I need them to stop asking. I need them to see me as a frightened girl — not the monster who stabbed her uncle.
The sobs come fast, raw, real.
Henry and Lisa try to calm me, saying I'm safe now.
Lily cries with me, whispering that everything will be okay.
But as I cry in her arms, my thoughts drift back to that night—the blood, the smell, the silence after.
I want to forget. I want to stop remembering.
The world blurs. The sounds around me fade.
And then, just like before, everything turns black.