Chapter 55 The weight of silence
Chapter 55: The Weight of Silence (Elena’s POV)
The police cruiser pulled out of the driveway, its blue and red lights finally fading against the tall hedges of the Vance estate. My mother was slumped against the kitchen counter, her face gray, her hands still shaking so hard she couldn't hold a glass of water.
"It’s over, Mom," I said. "He called them off. He told them the watch was found."
"He looked at me like I was a criminal, Elena," she whispered. "In front of everyone. The other maids, the chef... they all saw."
"I know. But you’re safe. That’s all that matters."
"Is it?" She looked at me, her eyes red-rimmed. "What did you do? Why did he suddenly change his mind?"
"I just talked to him," I lied, looking at the floor. "I reminded him that I’m still tutoring his son. That’s all."
I didn't tell her I had knelt on the marble floor. I didn't tell her I had promised to become a ghost. I just turned and limped toward the basement stairs. Every step was a reminder of the price I had paid.
The next morning at school was a different kind of hell. The hallway felt narrower. The whispers followed me like a shadow.
"Is that her?"
"The one in the recording?"
"I heard she tried to steal a watch to pay for her leg surgery."
I kept my head down, my grip tight on my cane. Maya caught up to me at the lockers. She didn't say anything at first; she just grabbed my bag and slung it over her shoulder.
"He’s at the end of the hall," Maya whispered.
I looked up. Liam was standing by his locker. Jax and Chloe were on either side of him. He looked like a statue—cold, hard, and expensive. He caught my eye for a split second. I expected anger. I expected fire.
Instead, he looked right through me. Like I was made of glass.
"Liam!" I called out, my voice cracking.
Jax stepped forward, a nasty grin on his face. "Keep walking, Basement. The King doesn't talk to the help during school hours."
"I wasn't talking to you, Jax," I said, trying to move past him.
Liam finally spoke. His voice was flat, devoid of any of the warmth that used to make me feel safe. "He’s right, Elena. I have nothing to say to you. Move."
"Please," I said, stepping into his path. "Just thirty seconds. The recording is a lie. You have to know that. You know how I feel about you."
Liam let out a short, dry laugh. He leaned down, his face inches from mine. I could smell his cologne, but it didn't feel like him anymore.
"How you feel about me?" he mocked. "Or how you feel about the merger? How you feel about the scholarship? I’ve heard the tape, Elena. You're good. I’ll give you that. You almost had me convinced you were real."
"I am real!"
"No," Liam said, his eyes turning to ice. "You're a job. And I’m your boss. Get to the library. You’re late for the session I’m paying for."
He walked away without looking back. Chloe lingered for a second, a smug smile on her lips.
"Better luck next time, sweetie," she whispered. "If there is a next time."
The library was silent. Maya sat at the edge of the table, her jaw set, watching Liam like he was a ticking bomb. Liam sat across from me, his feet up on the chair, scrolling through his phone.
"Page 142," I said, my voice trembling. "The Cold War."
"Read it to me," Liam said, not looking up.
"You have eyes, Liam. Read it yourself."
He dropped his phone on the table with a loud clack. "I don't think you heard me. I’m the one who kept your mother out of jail yesterday. I’m the one keeping you in this school. So, if I tell you to read, you read. Got it?"
"You're being a bully," Maya snapped.
"And you're lucky I haven't reported you for being an accomplice," Liam retorted. "Elena. Read. Now."
I opened the book. My eyes were so blurred with tears I could barely see the text. "The... the Cold War was a period of geopolitical tension between the United States and the Soviet Union..."
"Louder," Liam barked. "I can't hear you over the sound of your fake crying."
"It’s not fake!" I shouted, slamming the book shut. "How can you be like this? You know me! We sat in this exact spot and you told me you’d protect me!"
"That was before I knew I was protecting a snake," Liam said. He stood up, leaning over the table, his shadow falling over me. "You want to know why I’m like this? Because I trusted you. I let you in. And you were just counting the days until you could cash out."
"That recording is a fake!"
"Then prove it," he challenged. "Go ahead. Prove that isn't your voice. Prove you didn't talk to Maya about how 'easy' I am to manipulate. Can you?"
I looked at Maya. She looked at me. We had nothing. No original audio, no witnesses who would stand up against the Vance family.
"I thought so," Liam said. He sat back down and picked up his phone again. "Finish the chapter. And don't stop until the bell rings. I want my money’s worth."
I spent the next forty minutes reading through a throat that felt like it was filled with broken glass. Every time I stumbled on a word, Liam would make a sarcastic comment.
"Hard word, Elena? Maybe if you spent less time plotting, you’d have better vocabulary."
"Is the limp acting up? Or are you just looking for more pity points?"
By the time the bell rang, I was a wreck. I packed my bag with shaking hands.
"See you at the house, tutor," Liam said, standing up. "Make sure my tea is ready before we start the evening session. My father likes his staff to be punctual."
He walked out, leaving me sobbing at the table.
Later that night, I was in the basement, trying to focus on my own homework. The door opened, and Liam walked in. He wasn't supposed to be here. The basement was off-limits for him now.
"What do you want?" I asked, wiping my eyes.
"My History notes," he said, looking around the small, cramped room with disdain. "I left them on your desk during the last session."
"They’re right there." I pointed to a folder.
He walked over, but he didn't pick them up. He looked at a photo on my desk—a picture of me and my mom at my high school graduation.
"Is this the plan?" he asked, picking up the photo. "Use the rich boy to get her a better life? It’s almost sweet, in a disgusting kind of way."
"Put that down," I said, standing up.
"Or what? You'll call the police? Tell them I’m trespassing in my own house?" He tossed the photo back onto the desk. It face-planted on the wood, the glass cracking.
"I hate you," I whispered.
"Good," Liam said, stepping toward me. The air between us was thick with the old electricity, but now it felt like a shock. "Because I hate you more. I hate that I still look at you and see the girl I thought you were. I hate that I can still smell your perfume in my room. But most of all, I hate that you think you won."
"I didn't win anything! I lost you!"
"You never had me," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You had a version of me that you created. The real me? The real me is a Vance. And a Vance always gets what he pays for."
He reached out, his hand hovering near my face. For a second, I thought he was going to brush a tear away. Instead, he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"You’re going to finish this semester," he said. "You’re going to make sure I get into the university my father chose. And then, you’re going to disappear. If I see your face after graduation, I’ll make sure your mother never finds work in this country again. Understood?"
"Understood," I choked out.
He let go of my chin like I was something dirty. He grabbed his notes and walked out, slamming the basement door behind him.
I sank to the floor, clutching my leg. The silence of the basement was louder than his shouting. I was still in the house, but I had never been more alone.