Excellent Danielle leaves the prison His Silence : His Silence - Chapter Eight by Jacob1395

Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language. Background When Harvey murders his parents, he refuses to say why he did it. Twenty years later, he's finally ready to talk. I’m surprised I’m able to keep myself standing upright when I leave Harvey. My head’s spinning. If any of the newspapers manage to get a hold of what he’s told me, they’d be having a field day. He could be out of prison next year, regardless if he’s bloody innocent or not. He could be sending me on a wild goose chase. How can I trust him? I breeze back through the prison, keeping my head down and sprint out, passing through the heavy door, and into the bright sunshine which makes my eyes squint. Michael will still be waiting for me in the car park. I reckon I’ve been inside the prison thirty to forty minutes tops. Harvey’s last words to me repeat over and over in my head taunting me. There was someone else there that night. Why couldn’t he tell me who that person was? I shake my head and hurry over to Michael’s car, holding up my hood as light spots of rain spit at my cheeks. Michael’s heads bent low, he’ll be reading a book, or messages on his phone. As I reach the passenger door, Michael looks up. I yank the door open and slide in. ‘How did it go?’ he asks, putting his phone in his pocket. There’s a wrapper scrunched up in the footwell in front of him. He must’ve got something to eat somewhere nearby while I was talking to Harvey. The smell of melted cheese wafts into my nostrils, I roll down the window as nausea sweeps through me. Perhaps he got a McDonalds. Emma never allows McDonald’s in the house. ‘Yep, yep, fine,’ I say, plugging my seatbelt in. He’s desperate to find out more about what Harvey and I talked about. There’s a crease in his forehead as he stares at me, his eyes flicker back and forth. ‘Can we just go home?’ I ask, glancing out the window, lolling my head on the cool glass. I hope the tone of my voice will be enough to stop him asking questions. ‘Yes, of course,’ he says, starting the car up. The radio blasts into life, Adele’s soft voice, singing Someone like You, fills the car. Michael steers the car out of the car park and back out onto the main road. Harvey will be being led back to his cell now thinking there’s no way I’m going to help him. He told me the house I need to go to isn’t far from Leigh on Sea. Raven House it’s called. It would be about an hour’s drive from home. Why have the media never found a link to the place? There have been countless investigations into what happened to my family. The police stopped when Harvey refused to say why he did what he did. There wasn’t anything for them to work on. But there have been so many production companies employing top private investigators to look into what happened. Surely one of them should’ve found something. I pull out my phone. I need to talk to Callum. This is something I can’t talk to Michael and Emma about, not yet. I open WhatsApp, and frown, Callum hasn’t responded to my last message, but he’s read it. He can’t be ignoring me, can he? I type a message, my breath fogging the screen as I hold the phone to my face.             Can we talk this afternoon? I wait until the screen shows the message’s been delivered. Come on, Callum, please reply. My phone bleeps in my hand, almost making me drop it. I glance at Callum’s reply on the screen.             Sure, can pop over before footie. Of course, it’s Friday, he normally plays football on a Friday. He’ll be going up the pub afterwards as well. Why didn’t he reply to my text earlier? I ignore the thought and type a reply.             Yep sure, come over this afternoon when you can. I send my reply and shove my phone back into my pocket. I try to concentrate on the music now blasting Ed Sheeran’s, Shape of You.

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