Silent

58. A caged lion.

After two and a half weeks Michael was released from the hospital. Facing the outside world felt daunting now that he was aware of how public the case had gotten. It was all over the papers, all over the news, and he... Forever the boy who had been abducted and kept against his will. The ordinary high school kid, who was forced into prostitution and molested by several rich influential men. The boy who had finally brought them to face justice.

He had dreamt that he could one day return home and no one would know. He could tell some embellished truth, but now it painfully dawned on him how impossible that was. Everyone would know, and he'd have to face their pitying looks. The realization made him exceedingly anxious. There was a big part of him that wanted nothing more than to hide from the public and at the same time he knew he couldn't. He needed to endure, he needed to find and keep the strength to face what was to come.

They arrived at the apartment. How strange it felt to be back, how strange it felt to have both his parents there. To have all this care.

The trial would be held in New York the following month. There were more victims revealed, some willing to testify, others not yet identified but seen on the videos Ricky had been too cocky to hold on to.

It was now believed that Evan Bristley had been Ricky's first victim. It was suspected that Ricky was connected to the disappearance of Sebastian Walsh, although of course, the man did not admit anything. Jean's statement would be needed to confirm what had happened to the young man and hopefully lead the authorities to Sebastian's remains. Surely his family deserved the conclusion, deserved the small grace of a proper burial. They had already sent out a public plea for it, to anyone who might have seen Sebastian or Richard Larkin on the evening of his disappearance. To anyone with any new leads concerning the case. Plea to Jean to step out and speak the truth, to face justice for his part in both crimes.

But somehow Jean had still managed to stay on the run. In terms of the publicity the case brought, it was surprising he had managed to keep in hiding. Patrick claimed not having heard one word from him, naturally they had searched his apartment but there were no signs of Jean, no clues to his possible whereabouts. 

Meanwhile, Michael felt exhausted both physically and mentally. The conversations with Jack had helped some, but...it was a lot to deal with. He was thankful however that Jack had stayed behind in Paris while his partner had already needed to return to Canada for work. He knew Sam had insisted on paying his hotel for him to ensure Jack could stay to support him and worried he could not express his gratitude enough for it.

 He certainly had mixed feelings about the upcoming trial. He couldn't shake back his worries and fear and at the same time, there was this fierce determination that drove him, determination to finally see justice done. To personally witness that the monsters would never walk free again, to see them crumble before him. There was also satisfying certainty that even if there was a jury who would not be in their right minds and decided to acquit them, there would surely be people ready to take justice into their own hands. The life Ricky and his fellow monsters had known was destroyed no matter what happened. 

Sam helped him to sit on the couch. He was still feeling weak and needed to take it easy and rest; the doctor's orders. He needed to avoid big movements, and would be on sick leave for at least a couple of months, but even after that, how could he imagine returning to work? How could he ever work as a waiter when many would know what he had been through? 

"Would you like something, tea perhaps?" Sam offered and Michael smiled faintly.

"Thank you," he replied. "Nothing that a cup of tea can't fix!" He could hear his grandfather's voice in his mind, and see the gentle grin on his face as Isabella had served him a cup. Michael wanted to believe in that moment his grandfather had been right. For a man who had fought in the war, a statement like that should matter. A cup of tea was such a simple and normal thing in a situation where there was hardly anything normal. A cup of tea for comfort, to remind that simple things still existed and could offer that small sense of security and warmth.