"Absolute silence leads to sadness. It is the image of death"

- Jean-Jacques Rousseau

AN UNDERSTANDING was something Iris' parents would never have. Even as they looked down at their daughter in a hospital bed, her waist wrapped in a thick, blood soaked bandage, Iris was sure that they felt nothing but abhorrence. At least, that's what she guessed from the looks on their faces.

"I just don't understand." Her mother was saying, shaking her head vigorously as if it were loose and about to fall off. Her hair was pinned back so immaculately that it glistened in the light, matching the shine of her bright red lipstick painted on her thin lips. Iris realised then that she was glad she looked mostly like her father. At least she didn't have her mother's constantly frowning face.

Not that her father was that much different. He too, looked extremely stern, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, his phone constantly ringing in his pocket. Her parents were both dressed for work - as they were every day - and therefore extremely out of place in the hospital. Domenico Giorgianni sighed loudly, sending his gaze to Iris. "Is this what you want to end up as? Some low life criminal that deals drugs or whatnot?"

Iris rolled her eyes. "I'm not a drug dealer."

"What are you, then?" Her mother laughed, though it was sharp and humourless. "You could have been a privileged and respected woman working with us. But you wasted that, already dressing like a man. I don't even recognise you anymore."

"You don't recognise me? Maybe you should try acting like parents for once, and then you would have watched me grow up."

Iris' father growled, grabbing her wrist and squeezing it so hard she began to lose feeling. A blind rage like a fire swept over him. "Iris Maria Angelica Giorgianni - you will receive the consequences for this, young lady. How dare you speak to us in this way. I'm warning you now. In fact, no more of this," he waved his hands in her direction, a sneer on his face, "façade you've got going on-"

His phone began to ring, breaking his irate mood almost immediately. After answering it swiftly, he left the room, not even looking back in her direction.

The doctor, after having seen the argument immediately dissipate, quickly moved into the room, shutting the door behind him while he had the chance. He sent Iris a concerned look. "I'm afraid the officers are outside. They're going to want to speak to you."

Alessandra scoffed. "And why would they be here?"

"I don't know. They've been pestering us for a while, now-"

"Let them in." Iris said, a pessimistic tone already lacing her words. She was too tired to feel anything. After her parents had been informed of the cause of her wound, they had been shouting at her non-stop, and frankly, she'd had enough. At this rate, she'd rather go to prison.

The doctor nodded, rushing out of the room as if it had some rancid smell. Maybe that's just my parents, Iris thought to herself.

Her mother crossed her legs, staring at her nails with sudden interest. "You're a disgrace, you know that? An absolute disgrace. Why can't you be more like your brother?"

There it was.

Her brother. The angel of the family. Their true child. She knew that's what both of them were thinking as they first laid eyes on her current state.

Why can't you be more like your brother?

The conversation was interrupted as two police officers walked into the room, nodding to Alessandra and sitting down on the empty chairs. The larger man of the two, bald with a round nose, spoke first, breaking the unbearable silence. "Miss Giorgianni. I'm afraid we have some bad news."

Iris knew what the conversation was about before he began to continue. After all, wasn't it a known fact that officers that gave you bad news bore the responsibility for informing of a death? Everyone knew that. The conversation was about death.

But it was who that began to terrify Iris.

The gun shot. The victim. Who was the victim of the gun shot? Was it someone from The Sangue?

She dreaded to think. What if it was-

"Davis Adams sadly lost his life early this morning. We understand that you knew him well? He was airlifted to another hospital at around ten o'clock last night, but the doctors couldn't keep him alive. Mr Adams was in a critical condition for hours. We're truly sorry for your loss, miss."

She couldn't breathe.

Davis Adams. Loss. Critical condition. Hours. Lost his life. Couldn't. Knew him. Early. Truly. Sorry. Loss. Critical condition. Davis Adams. Davis.

It poured upon her like a trembling flood.

Davis.

Davis, with his big, green eyes, so much life in them as he looked at the world. The one who reassured The Sangue when someone got hurt, though everyone knew he was just as terrified, if not more. The boy with the kind smile. The warm hugs. The meaningful words.

Iris was supposed to protect him. That was her job. She was the leader, and she didn't protect him.

She didn't protect him.

"Be careful." He had said.

Why didn't she tell him that?

"We understand that this might have come as a shock to you." The other, pinched face officer began slowly. "But we have to ask you some questions as protocol."

Iris barely felt herself nodding.

"Some of the boys we have been questioning have informed us that you were the first to attack. Is this correct?"

Her mother coughed loudly. "Well! Is this really necessary, officers-"

"Did you, or did you not?"

Iris stared back at them.

She didn't know what to do.

Davis.

The pinched faced officer frowned, his bushy eyebrows brushing his lashes like an artist painting. "We're going to need an answer, miss."

They all knew she didn't need to tell the truth. They had no proof.

"And revenant? Be careful. They've got guns."

"Miss?"

"They've got guns."

Iris let her head sag, croaking softly. "I did not."

The officers nodded, looking slightly deflated. The larger one cleared his throat. "Right. Well, okay. From the wounds, the statement from the witness that found you, and the state you were in when she found you, it is highly likely that this is gang related violence. We do not have any evidence, however, but we do have to press charges for possession of an offensive weapon."

Iris' mother looked like she was going to pass out. "No. Absolutely not. No, I will not have this. Not at all."

"It's just community service, mostly, ma'am. And a precautionary measure from police. We will be keeping eyes on your daughter - gang crime is at its highest in London, and we are making sure that those statistics decrease."

"I will not have my daughter seen doing community service." She snapped, spitting in their faces. Her face was beginning to darken by the second. "I'm willing to pay. How much?"

"You cannot pay off community service." The smaller officer said, scratching his ebony hair awkwardly. "If you are concerned about her doing community service in London, there is another option."

Both Iris and her mother looked up to the officer, anticipation bearing deeply in their brown eyes. The officer continued. "We have strong connections with a camp for rehabilitation in Florida. It's more commonly known as 'Camp Juvy', but we like to call it by its more formal name. RRCUS: Rehabilitate and Restore Camp US."

By now the two women's facial expressions were contrasting so starkly that their relations were hardly recognisable. Iris plunged back into a soulless position. Alessandra's eyes shone with hope. "Yes. Yes, that's perfect. And this won't get out into the media?"

"Not if we only keep this between the police and the officials at RRCUS." The larger officer replied. "It can start whenever you apply for her. Which should be reasonably soon, considering it is part of her community service."

"Great." Alessandra said, her brown eyes flitting to Iris. Bony nose raised to the sky, she let a sly smile spread across her stern face. "You'll start tomorrow."

"I'm afraid tomorrow is a little too soon, miss." The doctor said, entering the room with a clipboard in his hands. His hair glistened with sweat, mouth curved downwards as he shrunk under Alessandra's scrutinizing gaze. "Her wounds haven't quite recovered yet. She needs more time. I'd say a week until she can go, at the earliest."

There was a long, painful moment of silence as Alessandra Giorgianni squinted, pursing her lips. Iris began to count the seconds.

"Fine." Alessandra said eventually, standing up and shoving her hand into her bag. "Next week, then. Are we done here?"

The larger officer nodded. "For now. We're going to need you to sign some papers, but we'll call you later on in the week."

She waved it off as if it were nothing. "Great. I'll be on my way then." Clapping her hands together once, she began to walk towards the door, before stopping and flitting her eyes to her daughter's bed. "Iris...I'll see you at home."

"You're not even going to visit me?" Iris asked, but despite the shock in her voice, she was hardly surprised.

Alessandra sighed loudly. "Honestly, Iris. How many times do I have to see you? Isn't once enough? You're fine. See you at home."

Iris watched her mother leave, her heels clicking on the shiny floor. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was when she noticed the sympathetic gazes from each of the men as they left the room. She didn't want them to feel sorry for her. She was past that stage of caring. If it wasn't a surprise, then it was an expectancy. Meaning it had happened so many times that she had given up.

Just like her parents had done with her.

  ♥♥♥

The hospital was about as interesting as anything else Iris could have been doing with her week. But life seemed to drag on, and after Davis' death, she couldn't seem to motivate herself to think properly. She didn't even know what the status of The Sangue was. None of them had visited her yet – which was understandable, seeing as they were probably all paying respects – but without her reign, most of them could have fled the country and gotten away with it.

Something that did spark surprise in Iris, however, was the arrival of her brother, Matteo, the next day. He had flown in after a business meeting in China, without their parents at his side.

Matteo had been graced with good looks – it was easily noticeable. He had curly dark hair, stubble sprouting just the right amount on his upper lip and chin, and a perfectly proportionate mouth from his father. He knew he was good looking too, deep down. He still frequently made efforts to be presentable, and that was something that their parents loved. But Matteo Giorgianni was a man of business; not romance. He made that very clear by the constant lack of expression on his grave face. It had become such a custom to his life that Iris wasn't even sure he had feeling.

But nevertheless, there he was, sitting at the end of her bed, staring at her more than she felt he had ever done before. "What the hell happened, Iris?"

She shrugged. "Life."

"Mum said..." He leaned in closer, lowering the volume level of his voice as his eyes pounced around the room worriedly. "Mum said you're a drug dealer."

"And you believed that?"

He was silent. Iris heard nothing but the sound of distant beeping in the room next door.

"Seriously, Matteo?"

"I mean, look at you." He said, gesturing meekly to her. "You're in a state."

She sighed loudly, averting her gaze so she wouldn't see that disappointed look again. None of them had any right to be disappointed. They lost that right when they weren't there for her to grow up. Although Matteo mainly looked after Iris when she was little, he had changed massively as soon as he turned eighteen. In fact, at sixteen he already knew the whole layout of their father's skyscraper complex in London. Not to mention that Domenico's employees loved Matteo. It was common knowledge that he was going to be CEO someday, so they almost had to.

But the relationship that Iris and Matteo had was long gone. She wasn't sure if it could ever come back.

"Since when do you care?" She said harshly, her green eyes and full lips pulled into a scowl as she stared at him.

Matteo scoffed. "Since the day you were born? I am your brother, you know."

"Really? So where were you on my first day of high school? Where were you when I did my music grade, or landed my first role in acting? Where were you, Matteo, when I broke my arm and had to walk myself to the hospital? Or when I almost died last year? Are you my brother? Are you?"

"Iris-"

"Do you ever stop to think that maybe I act like this just to be noticed? Just so I could spark one small reaction from you? I have been living my life practically alone. Fending for myself. So when I meet a community of people that actually seem to notice me for once, why wouldn't I want to be a part of it?" She looked up at the ceiling, in an attempt to stop the tears from spilling out of her eyes. She was refusing to show that much emotion. He wasn't worth it. "Just...think about that, Matteo. Okay? Think about who really put me in this hospital bed in the first place."

And just like that, they were plunged back into an endless void of silence. An empty, lifeless void that was the sad reality of their deteriorating relationship. Silence that seemed heavy and dark, like a passing cloud. Silence that was as deep as death.

But Iris' mind was thinking about loss in a deeper sense.

How could her family shut her out like that, when people truly lost their lives within the blink of an eye?

"Be careful, Revenant." He had said. Iris remembered the tone of wavering fear in his voice. The last few words Davis Adams would ever say to her. "They've got guns."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡         

AUTHORS NOTE: Oh.

My head hurts.

It's 00:14.

I need ice cream.

Lots of love,