Echoes in the velvet seats

1. The fractured family

The Fractured Family

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Edith sits quietly at the dinner table, pushing the food around with her fork, her gaze lost in the plate of vegetables.

The dining room is an unnecessarily large, dimly lit space, filled with the sound of clinking silverware and muted conversation that compensates for the lack of furniture.

Across the table, Laurie and Gerald speak in hushed tones, their words blending into a background hum that Edith barely registers. They discuss mundane topics- Gerald's work, Laurie's company agreements- having a conversation that easily resembles the others they have during meals.

It has been half a year since her sixteenth birthday, half a year since she lost the ability to push aside the growing storm of questions that keep her awake at night, tormenting her whenever she closes her eyes.

Victor, sitting beside Edith, notices her distant stare. He coughs softly, drawing her back to reality, and their eyes meet for a brief moment.

He nudges her gently, offering a small, supportive smile. Edith returns it, shaking her head in mild frustration as she realizes her thoughts have drifted away.

Gerald, finishing his apple, turns his attention to Edith. "How were your lessons today?" he asks, his tone polite but with an edge, as if trying to pull her into a conversation she doesn't want to have.

"They were fine," Edith replies, trying to hide her discomfort. She knows where this is going.

Laurie sighs softly, not missing the distance in Edith's voice. "Your instructor says you're unfocused. You need to understand the importance of a strong academic profile."

Edith's fingers tighten around her fork. "I'm fine the way I am," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with quiet defiance.

Sensing the conversation heading into familiar territory, one that often ends in arguments, Victor quickly shifts the subject, asking Gerald about his work. The tension eases slightly, but the unspoken words linger in the air, settling over the table like a fog.

Later that evening, Edith retreats to her room, feeling suffocated by her parents' expectations. It isn't the first time her mother has brought up her academic performance, and Edith knows it won't be the last. She is trying her best to keep her grades high, but no matter what she does, it never seems to be enough.

Victor knocks lightly on her door before entering. He finds Edith sitting by the window, staring out into the night. Her curls, freed from the tight bun she wears during the day, move gently with the breeze from the open window. She turns to face him, her eyes sparkling at the sight of her brother.

Victor has always been a source of inspiration for Edith. She admires his knowledge, his calm demeanor, and his ability to keep everything under control. But most of all, she is grateful that he understands her in ways their parents never seem to.

He carefully navigates through the mess of crumpled sheet music on the floor and sits on the window ledge beside her, their shoulders brushing. "Mom and Dad mean well," Victor begins, though he knows this isn't what Edith wants to hear. "They just... they don't know how to connect with you."

Edith huffs, a mix of frustration and sadness. "They don't care about connecting. They care about appearances. I'm just something they have to manage."

Victor turns to face her, his eyes soft with understanding. "You know that's not true. They love you, Edith."

But even as he says the words, they sound hollow. Edith has heard them before, and they feel more forced than ever. She can sense that even Victor is beginning to doubt them.

"I can't stand my thoughts anymore, Vic," Edith says, her voice trembling. "I have so many questions. I feel like I'm losing control of my own mind."

Victor's heart aches for her, but he forces a smile, trying to lift her spirits. "You have me, Edie. And I'll never leave you."

"I know you won't." But even Victor's presence, once so comforting, no longer has the same effect. The questions swirling in her mind are too powerful, too insistent.

"I need to do something about it," she continues, her voice growing more desperate. "I can't sleep. I can't concentrate. If this goes on, I won't even be able to talk to people."

Victor looks out the window, his glasses reflecting the streetlights below. "Are the thoughts still about our family's past?"

"Yes," Edith sighs, the word heavy with frustration. "Why can't I just ignore them like before?"

"Maybe because the stories Mom and Dad told us to cover up the truth don't work anymore," Victor suggests gently. "Everyone deserves to know where they come from."

Edith sinks further into her brother's arms, feeling a mixture of fear and determination. "But how can I find the truth?"

Victor is quiet for a moment, thinking. Then, he asks, "Have you ever been to the attic?"

Edith looks at him, surprised. "I went there once... but never returned. It's off-limits, you know that."

"Maybe that's exactly why you should go," Victor says, a hint of a smile on his lips. "There must be a reason they don't want you up there."

Edith stares at him, the idea taking root in her mind. "Maybe you're right. I'll have to think about it."

But deep down, she knows she has already decided. The moment Victor mentioned the attic, her curiosity flared to life, stronger than ever before.

"I'll find the answers to my questions" she thinks, "Even if it means breaking the rules my parents hold so dear."