Chapter 13: Names That Bloom Quietly
The wind had quieted. Only the gentle creak of the old country house filled the silence between them, mingling with the rustle of curtains at the window.
They hadn't left France yet. Not officially. But the decision had already been made.
The papers were in motion. The arrangements had been handled discreetly—new names, a new address, even a new backstory. But in this moment, tucked into the small kitchen of the borrowed farmhouse, it still didn't feel real.
Evelyn sat at the edge of the table, hands cradling a half-empty teacup, though the tea had long gone cold. Her eyes were distant, glassy with the weight of too many thoughts. Vivienne stood across from her, leaning on the countertop with her arms folded, watching her in silence.
"She didn't even scream," Evelyn said at last, voice barely more than a whisper.
Vivienne straightened. "Because she didn't understand. She's just a child."
"A genius child," Evelyn murmured. "And we almost lost her."
Vivienne moved, quietly, and knelt down in front of her. "But we didn't."
Evelyn's breath hitched. "It was our garden. He was supposed to be a friend. He knew when she'd be outside. What kind of ice cream she liked. How to distract her."
Vivienne's hands, so often in motion, stilled. Her fingers curled into fists before releasing. "He's in jail," she said gently. "He'll never see the outside of a cell again."
"But he saw her. He touched her. I wasn't fast enough—" Evelyn's voice cracked, and she broke off.
"Evelyn." Vivienne's voice sharpened slightly. "You were the one who found her. Who pulled her away. You were the one who protected her."
A tremor rippled through Evelyn's shoulders. She pressed a hand to her mouth, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"I failed as a mother."
Vivienne leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, then another. "You didn't."
Tears welled in Evelyn's eyes, spilling freely now. She turned her face, but Vivienne didn't let her retreat. She cupped her face gently and kissed her again—her cheeks, her brow, her temple.
"You didn't fail," Vivienne whispered. "We just live in a world where monsters hide in dinner jackets and smile too easily."
Evelyn's fingers clung to her wrist. "She's going to remember, Vivi. She's too sharp. She notices everything."
"Then we give her something else to remember," Vivienne said, voice fierce. "We give her softness. Laughter. Family. We drown out every shadow with light until she forgets what the dark ever looked like."
For a moment, Evelyn said nothing. Just held onto her.
"She asked if she was bad," she said eventually. "She asked if he did that because she wasn't normal."
Vivienne closed her eyes, pain flickering across her face before it vanished beneath the calm mask she wore. "And what did you tell her?"
Evelyn's hands trembled as they gripped the edges of the cup. "I told her she was everything but bad. That it was never her fault. But I don't think she believed me. How could she, when she's seen so much more than a child should?"
Vivienne knelt by her side, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "She believes you. And if she doesn't, we'll show her every single day. We'll make sure she never questions her worth. You won't be alone in this, Evelyn. We won't let you carry this alone."
"I don't know how to protect her from this world," Evelyn whispered.
Vivienne's eyes darkened. "You don't need to protect her from everything. We can't shield her from the ugliness of this world entirely. But we can give her the tools she needs to fight back. To stand tall. We teach her to walk in the light, and when the dark comes, we'll be there beside her."
Evelyn let out a soft, bitter laugh. "We can't even keep ourselves safe from the lies."
Vivienne tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that was half amusement, half something else entirely. "When it comes to this family, we have to lie. It's the only way we keep her safe. Keeping her in the shadows, keeping her hidden from the world. It's the only way."
"I thought I had enough of hiding," Evelyn muttered, more to herself than to Vivienne. Her hands tightened around the cup as though willing it to break into a thousand pieces.
"I know," Vivienne said softly. "But you'll do anything for her."
Evelyn hesitated, staring at her. "Will you, Vivi? Will you do anything for her?"
Vivienne met her gaze, her voice low but steady. "I'll do anything for both of you. You've done too much for me not to."
Evelyn took a deep, shuddering breath. It was strange, the way her heart beat harder for Vivienne than for anything else. It felt both comforting and suffocating.
Vivienne pressed a kiss to her temple, tender but resolute. "You don't have to do this alone anymore, Evelyn."
They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in the quiet that had settled over them. The house felt too large now, as if it were holding its breath, waiting for something to happen, for something to shift.
"So," Evelyn finally said, breaking the silence. "What now?"
Vivienne straightened, eyes sharp. "Now, we change everything."
Evelyn blinked, confused for a moment.
"The name," Vivienne said. "We change our names."
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "A new identity?"
Vivienne nodded, leaning against the table, her expression hardening. "Ainsley."
Evelyn's mouth fell open. "Ainsley?" she repeated, her voice unsure.
Vivienne smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's perfect. Sounds like we're harmless. Quiet. Nothing to fear."
"Nothing to fear," Evelyn repeated under her breath. She ran a hand through her hair, her fingers trembling. "And what about Reginald?"
Vivienne shrugged. "Reginald is the 'pretend' father. He'll stay out of sight, of course. Still, it'll help. We won't be seen as strange. He can put up the front."
Evelyn shook her head. "You're making him play the 'grieving husband' role?"
Vivienne chuckled softly, though the sound held no mirth. "He's an excellent actor."
Evelyn's lips twitched upward. "Only in the most ridiculous of ways."
Vivienne rolled her eyes. "Still, we need him to pull it off. But when we move to the new place, no one will even know we're hiding. We'll blend in."
"And what of her?" Evelyn asked softly. "Eva. She'll have to adjust, won't she?"
Vivienne sighed, her fingers tracing the edge of the table as she thought. "Eva will be the hardest part. We'll keep her grounded. We won't let her believe she's ever alone in this. As for the rest…"
"We'll just keep moving," Evelyn said softly.
Vivienne nodded. "We'll keep moving."
Evelyn swallowed, her throat tight. "We can't stop, can we?"
Vivienne's face softened, a rare vulnerability flashing in her gaze. "No. Not now. But we'll make it through. One day at a time."
Evelyn closed her eyes, feeling the weight of it all. They'd changed so many things already. Names, identities, relationships. Their entire world had shifted so violently, and yet they kept pushing forward.
She opened her eyes and looked at Vivienne, taking a deep breath. "Alright. Ainsley it is."
Vivienne smiled. "You're still the most incredible woman I know."
Evelyn exhaled softly, shaking her head, though a soft smile touched her lips. "Don't lie."
"I don't lie, darling. I just get creative."
"Creative," Evelyn repeated, her smile becoming genuine. "Let's see if we can still be creative in this new life."
Vivienne kissed her cheek once more, gently. "We'll always be creative. But for now, let's make sure our girl believes she's safe."
Evelyn nodded, letting the quiet settle between them once more. Outside, the wind picked up again, the rustle of leaves a reminder that life was still moving, still going, no matter how much they wished for a pause.
They were leaving soon. Their new life was waiting. And they would make it one of safety, of warmth, and of love.
For Eva. Always for Eva.