Page 37 of Silenced

Me: Da.

Troy: What’s he done this time?

Me: What did he do to you?

Troy: I see how this is going… information for information. I’d call if you didn’t have that little voice box issue. You still can’t talk?

Me: I can talk.

Troy: Ha. I’ve never heard you utter a word. Never known anyone who’s heard you speak either.

I sigh.

Me: Why is everyone so fucking fascinated with my voice?

Troy: Ah, well, you’re weird. And dangerous. What others would perceive as a weakness, what others could use against you, ISN’T your downfall.

Troy: People prey on weaknesses like yours and yet, with you, it’s almost a strength.

Troy: You don’t fit the pattern.

Me: How fascinating that you’ve given it some thought.

Troy: Don’t get ahead of yourself.

Troy: Anyway… Altin used to have a little problem with strangling his hookers.

Anger filters through me.

Troy: My darling papa covered those murders up though.

Troy: That enough to kill him?

Me: Is it true? Or are you just baiting me?

Troy: You know what IS fascinating?

Me: What?

Troy: How the Russian mobster has a conscience where his hookers are concerned.

Troy: I know about your mother…

Me: I’d expect no less.

Troy: Is she why you only have a small stable of prostitutes in your retinue? Because your father whored her out?

Just one of the reasons.

But I refuse to get angry tonight.

Not when my ‘little sun’ is piercing the darkness of my world.

I loathe prostitution but… it’s expected of me, so, I keep my answer clinical:

Me: Prostitution is a short-term investment. Women aren’t machines.

Troy: That’s why your girls all cost twenty K a night?

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