Even a Scream Has A Musical Scale - Chapter 9

The road from Eratum to her family home felt longer and darker than usual. Winter rain tapped persistently against the car windows, blurring the landscape outside. As she stared out at the endless stretch of ocean, her expression mirrored the gloom of the weather.

The journey back to her father’s estate was never easy, but today it seemed particularly daunting. Her entire body was taut with anxiety, like a thread struggling to pass through the eye of a needle. The moment she had received the message summoning her home for the weekend, her hands had grown cold with dread. By the time she saw the chauffeur waiting by the gate, she felt as if she had dried up completely, her nerves frayed to the point of breaking.

The mansion stood desolate, more like a haunted house than a home. Despite its size, her father’s compulsive need for control meant that only a skeleton staff was employed. Her brother Maxwell and sister Bo were nowhere to be found; the only family member present was her father.

During dinner, while he busied himself with the newspaper, she could hardly focus on anything but her phone. The single message from Remington, though brief, consumed her thoughts:

“Think about it.”

Had it been written on paper, it would have worn thin from how many times she had read and reread those three words.

“How’s school?” her father’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She quickly placed her phone face down on the table and adjusted her grip on the knife.

“It’s good,” she answered.

“Is it? In what way?” he pressed, chewing his steak slowly as his gaze bore into her. She felt a familiar sense of suffocation and hurried to explain.

“I got an A in English literature. And in history and math as well.”

Her father’s face remained impassive. He swallowed his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, showing no sign of satisfaction.

This wasn’t the response he was looking for. Her anxiety deepened as she shifted the knife in her sweaty palm, the handle slipping slightly. The chandelier hanging from the high ceiling seemed as though it might suddenly crash down, splitting the table in half. Though she knew it was an irrational thought, she couldn’t shake her growing unease.

“But I didn’t do well on my geometry exam,” she added quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“As long as your grades are sufficient, it’s not a problem. Do you think I can’t get you into Chern University?”

“No, it’s just—”

“There’s something wrong at school, isn’t there?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she froze. Her father sipped his red wine, his eyes never leaving her. She wished he would take his time, but he swallowed quickly and continued.

“Terry Tyler.”

Her eyes widened at the mention of a name she had nearly forgotten. That her father would bring it up at all was something she hadn’t anticipated.

“You won’t be seeing him anymore.”

“…What?”

“I cut off his funding. He won’t be returning to Eratum until after you’ve graduated.”

“…Why? Why would you do that?”

“Why?” Her father’s eyebrows arched in mild irritation. She struggled to maintain her composure, her voice trembling as she sought to understand his reasoning.

“But, yes, he did something wrong, but not bad enough to deserve this. Besides, he’s already being bullied at school. Isn’t that punishment enough…?”

“Dani.”

Her father’s voice was laced with a tone that sent a shiver down her spine. She recognized the look in his eyes all too well, a look that pretended to be sympathetic but was anything but. He gestured for her to come closer, and reluctantly, she rose from her seat, feeling the weight of his command. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the nanny, Anna, watching with concern.

As Dani knelt slowly at her father’s feet, her heart pounded in her chest. The instant she looked up at him, fear evident in her eyes, his large hand shot out, gripping her chin with a vice-like hold, forcing her head up.

“Ugh…”

“Dani, who passes judgment on sin?” his voice was cold, unforgiving.

“You do, Father,” she replied, her voice trembling.

Despite giving the correct answer, her father’s grip did not loosen. She felt as though the massive cross hanging on the wall behind him was pressing down on her, threatening to crush her under its weight.

He stared into her eyes with an icy gaze. “You’ve made two mistakes. First, you let your anger get the better of you and publicly humiliated that boy. Second, you failed to report the insult to me immediately.”

She said nothing, the words caught in her throat.

“In the future, if anything similar happens, you smile first. Smile as sweetly as you can, so no one suspects what you’re feeling. Then, you tell me who dared to insult you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes… I’m sorry,” she stammered.

“Never take judgment into your own hands. I never gave you that authority.”

“…I’m sorry.”

She nodded like a puppet, her body trembling as sweat soaked her palms. Her father finally released her chin, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Get rid of that habit of apologizing so easily.”

“But… I am sorry…”

“And again, you apologize? Apologies are reserved for when you absolutely must give them.”

“Ugh…”

His foot pressed lightly against her knee, causing her to wince. He continued, his voice devoid of warmth.

“So, Dani, if I push you this far, what will you say now? You’ve already wasted all your apologies—what’s left? Will you grovel on the floor?”

“Ugh…”

“Now do you see? How easily you throw away apologies.”

As his foot returned to its place, Dani fought back tears, nodding in silence. Her knees ached against the cold marble floor, bruises already forming under the pressure, but she dared not show any sign of pain. The consequences of doing so were too frightening to consider.

“Three things must always be distinguished: what must be said, what can be said, and what must never be said.”

Her father resumed his meal slowly as if the conversation had never happened.

“People who say whatever they want are foolish. Those who expose their ‘true selves’ by speaking the truth are even more foolish.”

“…”

“The truly clever ones know how to adapt to their circumstances, like a chameleon.”

“Yes…”

Dani clenched her fists, trying to suppress the tremor in her body as she nodded obediently. She watched as a piece of red meat disappeared into her father’s dark mouth. She remained kneeling at his feet, waiting patiently until he finished his meal. Her thoughts drifted to her sister, Bo, and she felt a pang of guilt for Anna, the nanny, who was undoubtedly witnessing this scene with a heavy heart.

It was only after he swallowed the last piece of meat that her father spoke again.

“I hear you’ve been choosing a friend to help you with school life. How’s that going?”

“Ah…”

Her mind, exhausted and blank, struggled to form a coherent response. The fear of saying the wrong thing and inviting more punishment loomed large.

“I-I’ve made my choice,” she stammered, blurting out a name impulsively. “Remington Howard. He’s my buddy.”

The moment the name left her lips, regret surged through her, but fear was a stronger force, drowning out any other emotion. She wanted to escape the situation quickly, to avoid giving her father any more reason to believe there was a problem with her school life.

“Julia Howard’s son?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Not a bad choice,” he murmured approvingly, taking another sip of wine. Dani felt a wave of relief, but it was quickly followed by a heaviness as she realized that just as Remington would be remembered as Julia Howard’s son, she too would be known only as Henry Roderson’s daughter.

The lecture continued long after that, her father’s voice droning on as he emptied a full bottle of wine. It was only when Anna gently intervened that Dani was allowed to stand. She wobbled as she rose, her legs weak and unsteady from kneeling for so long, like brittle branches in winter.

“Oh, my poor girl…” Anna sobbed softly as she massaged Dani’s legs, her tears falling freely. Dani placed a comforting hand over Anna’s, forcing a smile.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt at all.”

But her words only made Anna more distressed.

“Don’t lie, miss. Your knees are bruised!”

“It’s not a big deal. No one looks at me that closely, anyway. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not about what others see, it’s about how much I care,” Anna replied, wrapping her arms around Dani and stroking her back gently.

“Miss, you’re still taking your medicine, right?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, you poor thing…” Anna whispered, holding Dani tightly, as if trying to protect her from the world.

Anna kept repeating those words, over and over again—how pitiful Dani was, how pitiful, how pitiful. But whether Dani was pitiful or not didn’t concern her. What mattered was the sadness in Anna’s voice as she whispered those words. Dani hated the thought of making someone sad because of her.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” Dani said softly.

“For what, dear?” Anna asked, surprised.

“For making you upset. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“Don’t say that,” Anna replied, pulling Dani closer into her embrace. She smelled warm and comforting, like heated milk. Dani stayed nestled in her arms for a long while, finding solace in Anna’s presence.

Before leaving, Anna handed Dani another pill, waiting patiently until she had swallowed it completely. Only then did Anna quietly exit the room.

Left alone in the darkness, Dani lay in bed, her gaze fixed on the wooden cross hanging from the ceiling. As she wrapped her arms around her bruised knees, her thoughts drifted to Remington. A dull ache spread beneath her warm palms as she gently massaged her sore knees.

“Those who can adapt to their circumstances are truly clever, like a chameleon,” her father had said.

As sleep slowly crept in, Dani found herself contemplating the chameleon. On the rocks, it had taken on a muted gray hue, blending seamlessly with its surroundings. But as it moved onto the leaves, it quickly turned green. And when it crawled over the flower bed, its body shimmered with a kaleidoscope of colors.

But then, Dani wondered, what is the chameleon’s true color? Does the chameleon even know its true color?