Page 26 of A Silence So Divine

“Because it’s fun,”he retorts, shooting me a wink.“Oh! I’ve got a good one. What’s your last name?”

I hesitate, nibbling at the inside of my cheek.

“I don’t know,”I shrug, averting my gaze.

Now Creed is the one who sits up, the look of astonishment only adding to my embarrassment.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”His brows pull low over his eyes.

“Papa never told me. He said it was better that I didn’t know,”I explain, feigning nonchalance. Creed looks at me like I’m crazy, and it’s making mefeelcrazy.

“What’s yours?”I ask, aiming the attention away from myself.

“B-a-s-t-i-e-n,”he replies.“I think it’s French.”

I nod absently, taking a cherry for myself.

“You’re from France?”I rack my brain of all that I’ve read of the place. My books had to be approved by Papa, and he liked to limit my knowledge of the outside world.

Creed’s eyes crinkle in amusement,“No. My grandfather was born there. My dad’s dad.”

Intrigued, I sit up onto my knees, giving him my full attention.

“You don’t speak of your father much,”I hedge, subtly digging for information.

Creed’s cherry pit shoots toward me. I swat it away only after it hits me in the cheek. “Neither do you.”He’s right, of course, and now I don’t want to talk about it anymore.

“There’s not much to say,”I respond passively. We both know it’s a lie. My father was a very… complex man. Speaking of him only leaves me feeling hollow. Confused.

Creed’s stare makes me squirm, itching to flee the conversation. He sits up so we’re level.“Don’t you wonder where he went?”He asks, glancing around the room.“He vanished, leaving you and the house behind.”

My chest tightens, my shoulders deflate. I don’t think I love my father, not really, but he was the only person I had to rely on my whole life. In his own way, I think he cared about me.

And if people reallyareafter me, it’s clear why he hid me.

Creed grabs for my hand, and my attention. The pity is clear as day in his eyes. It makes me feel sick.“It’s okay to be happy he’s gone. He was evil, Eden.”

That word makes tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

“He wasn’t. He thought he was doing the right thing,”I insist. If Creed thinks my father was evil, what will he think of me?

“You can’t believe that. The way you looked when we found you… he did that. I need you to understand that you didn’t deserve it.”

His sincerity only makes me more upset. I’m undeserving of it. Cecil knows who I am, who I really am, and that’s why he stays away.

I wanted to believe that I wasn’t all the things Papa said, but the older I get, the more I feel it inside of me.

“Maybe I did. Maybe I’m the evil one,”I respond before I can think better of it.

Creed shakes his head, looking to the fireplace. There’s a long moment of stillness, both of us at a loss of what to say. Blowing out a sigh, he plops back onto the rug and faces the large windows. The sun is setting now, the sky a melancholy purple.

“Well, if you are, I must be, too. Birds of a feather.”

Twelve

Creed

Eden’s mattress jumps as I launch myself onto her prone form. Her head bobbles on the pillow with each bounce, and I’m inches from her face. The glare she gives me is deadly, but there’s no dampening my good mood.