The silent prodigy a dom.., p.1
The Silent Prodigy: A domestic thriller with a shocking twist, page 1
The Silent Prodity
Emily Shiner
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
This is a work of art/fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, or places is purely coincidental. Any persons appearing on the cover image for this book are models and do not have any connection to the contents of this story.
All characters depicted in this work are unrelated consenting adults. This author assumes no responsibility for the use/misuse of this material.
© 2021 Emily Shiner
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Chapter 1
Prologue
Not every death is accompanied by screaming.
Some people die without anyone even noticing that they’re gone until much later. Maybe their body disappears for a while, only to be found when it’s mostly just bones. Those are the lucky ones.
Maybe their body sits out in the hot sun until it’s so bloated that it’s unrecognizable. Those are the unlucky ones. Or, rather, the person who finds them is the unlucky one.
The sound of the little girl screaming when she found the body down in the ravine rattled up to her parents, who were setting up a camp sight. The mother was on her phone trying to make an appointment for a hair cut the next afternoon. She’d always hated camping but was about to hate it even more.
The father was trying and failing to start a fire. Ever since his time in the boy scouts when he was younger he’d dreamed of taking his family camping. He never thought that that would involve his wife drinking enough to kill a fish just to suffer through setting up the tent, but he was adaptable.
Even though she was half drunk, it was the wife who made it down into the ravine first. She’d swapped out her high heels for a pair of sneakers that never really saw much use and tore down the rocky hillside, sliding once near the bottom in her hurry to get to her daughter.
The one thing that would stick with her for the rest of her life wasn’t the terror on her daughter’s face. It wasn’t how quickly her husband reached them at the bottom and scooped their daughter up to keep her from having to see anything else.
It was the way the body lay twisted on the ground, its face turned up to the side, its unseeing eyes open wide. One arm was tucked back behind it, pinned below the body as it fell, the other was flung out from the body, the elbow at an unnatural angle.
There wasn’t any way that this man just fell down the ravine, was there?
The mother turned and looked up the ravine, her eyes searching the edge for any proof of if the man had simply fallen to his death or if he had been pushed. His body was bloated, the skin stretched tightly across the bones, his mouth in a perma-grin that would haunt her for the rest of her life.
“Call 911!” Her husband was screaming at her, their daughter pulled tight into his arms to keep her from turning around and looking again. “Get the police!”
Like she was in a fog, the mother turned her phone up to look at it. The screen still showed the seconds of her call to the beauty salon ticking up. Somewhere, even out here in the middle of nowhere, she still had amazing service.
“Nicole! Today!”
The mother hung up the call and slowly pressed the buttons. 9. 1. 1.
Of course, the police would come, and they’d have questions.
Who was the man?
How did this happen?
Was it possible that he just fell from the ravine or was there any chance that someone had pushed him?
“Nicole!”
Her husband’s voice tore her from her thoughts and she was sure that he was going to yell at her for not hurrying up. What he said next, though, made her freeze, her finger just about to swipe the phone on.
“There’s another one!”
Chapter 2
Vanessa
“She could do better.”
The four words my husband throws at me sting like barbs even though I know that his anger isn’t directed at me. It’s directed at Cassie, who currently cowers behind me, her arms wrapped around me like I’m a shield that she can use to protect herself.
It wasn’t always like this, him getting angry at something that one of us has done, me trying to protect us both from his anger. I knew that he had a problem when we got married, but I was young and in love. Looking back at wedding pictures now I honestly can’t believe that I’m the same person.
We were so happy, so in love. Then Cassie was born and it was like everything really clicked into place.
But then it all fell apart.
I want to go back in time and shake myself by the shoulders, screaming into my face that I can do better. Of course, I don’t think that I’d believe it back then. I sure didn’t believe it when my friends told me that I’d lost my mind. No, I was in love, and Nathan was as good as it got.
That’s what he told, and that’s what I always believed.
But there’s this whole big world out there filled with people who don’t scream at your daughter when she doesn’t speak and I’m just now beginning to figure out that maybe I made a mistake so many years ago.
Of course, if I hadn’t made that mistake and walked down the aisle to meet him, I wouldn’t have Cassie. Marrying Nathan was a mistake, but having Cassie has been the best thing that I’ve ever done. She’s seven now, and the only thing that really gets me up in the morning.
Not because we have so much fun playing and talking together, but because I’m afraid of what will happen to her if I leave her alone with Nathan for too long. He doesn’t know how to talk to her. I don’t know that he’d even get her breakfast before going to work.
She trembles behind me, pressing her face into my back so that she doesn’t have to risk looking around me and seeing her father. I haven’t read her the story of Medusa, but that’s how she treats her father. If she doesn’t look at him, then he can’t hurt her. If she does look at him then she’ll be turned to stone.
“She’s doing the best that she can,” I tell him, lifting my chin a little bit to meet his glare. I never found it easy to stand up for myself when we were first married and I was pregnant, but now that I have someone else to be strong for, it’s easier than I ever thought possible. If I could just go back in time and tell myself that...
Then what? I’d still marry him, if only so that I could have Cassie.
And I believe that he’ll come around. He wanted Cassie, wanted to be a dad, and there’s no reason to think that we can’t all work through this.
Nathan scoffs and rolls his eyes, slamming his hand down hard on the counter between us. Cassie shakes and shivers closer to me, but I know better than to reach around to comfort her. No, it’s best for me to keep my eyes on Nathan and make sure that my body is firmly between the two of us.
He hasn’t hurt her yet, but she’s scared.
Nathan leans over the counter like he needs to get a better look at me. He’s in the kitchen, my daughter and I in the dining room, separated only by the eat-in bar that the realtor had called a dream.
“Just imagine,” he’d said, running his hand along the counter, “what it will be like to eat here as a family every morning! You’ll love all the time you three get to spend together and it will be your favorite place in your house!”
Yeah, right. Nathan’s favorite place is the garage, where he set up a mini-fridge so that he’ll always have something to drink when Cassie and I are driving him nuts. Cassie loves to hide in her closet with the door shut, and I wander around from room to room like a ping-pong ball, never really settling.
Now my husband’s hand is clapped down hard on the counter like he’s holding it in place. He stares at me, his eyes wide like that’s going to help him make his point. I need to defer to him to keep him happy.
“I’ll get a new therapist,” I tell Nathan, reaching back and lightly stroking Cassie’s arm. She doesn’t respond to me but I’m sure that she feels my touch. It’s almost impossible to get her to respond when Nathan’s acting like this. “I’ll call someone in the morning a
“It’s because you’re going to take care of it that I do worry,” he snaps, then his face softens. “I’m sorry, Vanessa, that was uncalled for. I’m just stressed.” He steps back from the counter and runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. It was that thick dark hair that caught my attention the first time that we met but now I watch him run his fingers through it and I don’t feel anything for him.
“Do you have someone you’d rather me call?” He knows everyone. As frustrated as he is with Cassie, I have to believe that he’ll do anything to help her.
To help us.
That’s why what he says next doesn’t surprise me. “I do,” he says, pulling a card from his back pocket. “I’ve known Dr. Harris forever. He’s the best.”
Reaching out, I take it from him, doing my best to keep from crying. If Nathan says that this guy is the best, then I have to believe him. Relief floods through my body but I don’t want Csasie to know that.
“I’ll call them in the morning,” I tell him, slipping the card into my pocket without looking at it. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
He nods, then runs his hand through his hair again. The movement is so familiar that I want to have him wrap his arms around me.
“I want her to start right away,” he says, pointing at me. “Make sure that she can start immediately so that we can get her the push that she needs.”
“Of course.” This is how it always ends, with him slowly losing hot air like a balloon with a hole poked in it. Soon enough he’ll go out into the garage and drink away the rest of the day, leaving me time to pick up all of Cassie’s broken pieces and try to put them together.
I love my husband. I just want the man that I married back. We traveled and stayed out too late at restaurants dancing and laughing. It all came to an abrupt halt when Cassie was born.
“Dinner is soon,” I tell him, and he nods once, glancing up at me before his eyes dart down to Cassie. She shifts behind me but neither of them speak.
“I’m going to the garage,” he tells me, then turns on his heel and stalks out of the room. It feels like the entire house is holding its breath until he’s gone, the garage door shut hard behind him.
“Okay, Cassie,” I say, once the garage door shuts behind him, “he’s gone.” Turning around, I reach for her, wanting to pull her into a hug, but she pushes away from me, running across the house to her room.
Just once I wish that she would stay with me.
Scratch that. If I had a wish, a real wish, and I knew for sure that it was going to come true, then I’d wish that I’d be able to hear my child’s voice.
Just once.
Is that too much to ask?
Chapter 3
Cassie
The only safe place is my closet.
I know that my mom wants me to come out and talk to her, but it’s so much better in here where it’s dark and small. I feel safe when I can reach out and touch all of the walls around me, and I do that now, sitting in the middle of the floor and reaching my arms out behind me and to my sides.
Right behind me are my dresses. My dad keeps buying them for me even though I hate the way that dresses feel on. They’re too loose, like they don’t really want to be on your body. I like stretchy pants that cling to my legs and shirts that are nice and tight better.
He keeps buying the dresses, stuffing my closet full of them. I want to pull them down and sleep on them but I’m afraid of what he might do if he sees me doing that. It’s best to leave them hanging up behind me, even though I have to push my hand through them to reach the wall.
My animals are on my sides. If you ask him, I have too many of them. They surround me and I lean on them, exhaling hard. I know that my mom is trying her best. I know that she doesn’t mind me using her as a shield when he gets really upset with me. I just don’t know how she puts up with it.
There are footsteps outside my closet and I stiffen. My dad doesn’t come in here very often, but when he does, he’s angry. The crack of light under my door disappears for a second and then the door swings open.
My mom stands there, looking down at me.
“Got room for one more?” She has two cookies in her hands and holds them up so I can see them. “I thought that we could use a snack.”
I want to tell her that she knows that we’re not supposed to eat anywhere but in the kitchen just in case we spill and attract ants but instead I give her a single nod and scoot over enough for her to squeeze in next to me.
She does, letting out a sigh as she sits down, then taps on the taplight she hung on the wall before closing the door and shutting us in.
“Chocolate chip?” She asks, and I nod, taking the cookie from her. It’s not her fault that my dad is so terrible and I don’t want her to think that I’m mad at her. Leaning over, I rest my head on her shoulder for a moment before sitting back up and taking a bite.
My mom doesn’t move until I sit up, then she loops one arm around me and crushes me to her side.
It feels good.
“You’re one brave kiddo,” she tells me, taking a bite from her cookie. Some crumbles fall down onto her lap but I don’t point them out. If they stay behind when she leaves then I’ll just have to clean them up myself to keep us from getting in trouble with my dad.
“You still like the violin, right?” She asks, turning her head to look at me. The way that the light is shining on the side of her face makes her look scary. Shadows fill in her cheeks and under her eyes and I close my eyes for a moment before nodding.
“If you don’t, you can tell me. I know that your dad just wants the best for you and that’s why he’s pushing the instrument so hard.” She sighs and takes another bite, grabbing a big chocolate chip and popping it into her mouth. “It’s his way of showing you that he loves you.”
My cookie turns to dust in my mouth and I hand her the second half of mine.
“You don’t want it?” Her eyes search my face and I shake my head.
No, I don’t want to eat anything while we pretend that my dad loves me.
“More for me,” she says, touching me lightly on the nose. “I’m making spaghetti for dinner, do you want to help?”
I consider her offer for a moment. I like stirring the pot and watching as the hard noodles slowly go soft in the boiling water. It’s fun to see the bubbles break the surface as everything cooks.
But the kitchen is really close to the garage, and that’s where my dad is right now.
I shake my head.
“Well, you know where to find me if you do. I love you, Cassie,” she tells me, leaning over to give me a kiss on the forehead. Her lips linger for a moment and I think about wrapping my arms around her.
I want to beg her to stay with me. My closet is the only safe place in the house but she doesn’t seem to know that. As long as she’s out there, where my dad is, then she’s in danger. If she would only stay with me in here then we could hide from him.
“I’ll let you know when it’s ready,” she tells me. “And I’ll make sure that you get extra parm on yours, okay? So much cheese that it looks like snow.” She grins at me but I can see the sadness behind her eyes.
Quickly, I nod once at her, then pick up an animal and cuddle it to my chest when she stands up. The bright light from my room hurts my eyes and as soon as she closes the door behind her, I reach out, turning off my taplight.
