Page 66 of A Silence So Divine

Eden takes cautious footsteps towards the glass until we’re standing side by side. Not taking her eyes from the raging storm, she signs,“It was very loud up there.”

A pang hits my chest. I used to think that I had it bad, on the move with Cecil. But at least I had some who cared about me.

Throwing my arm around her shoulder, I steer her away from the window and toward the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, we watch one another in the reflection.

“I know what to do.”

The rain has subsided, misting the Earth and thickening the air. Eden and I sit beside the fire, soaking up the warmth. A pan of blueberry muffins sits on the rug between us. She pops the last bite of a third muffin into her mouth, cheeks stuffed to full capacity.

“They’re like pancakes, but easier to eat,”she signs in wonder. Brushing the crumbs off her fingers, she reaches for another.

I attempt to conceal my laughter, but there’s no hiding the grin splitting my face.

“They’re Cecil’s favorite, too,”I tell her,“so you better save him some.”

The muffin is halfway to her gaping mouth when she pauses, face falling. With an exaggerated sigh, she places it back down.

“Where is he, anyway?”She asks, biting at the corner of her lower lip. I shrug.

“Who knows? Cecil does what Cecil wants.”

Eden doesn’t respond, but her eyes dart around the room nervously. Then, she’s picking at her nails.

“What is it?”I coax.

“Nothing.”

My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head. If there’s one thing Eden isn’t good at, it’s concealing her emotions.

“Tell me, or I’ll throw these muffins to the birds.”

Her eyes narrow at me in disdain. But it works.

“Are they afraid of me?”

I consider lying to save her feelings, but then think better of it.

“Some,” I admit.“But Veda told them you won’t hurt anyone.”

Sadness flickers in her eyes, and her chin wobbles.

I should have lied.

I panic, hurrying to rectify the situation.“They don’t know you. Once they do, they’ll love you like I do.”

She shakes her head, covering her face with her hands. Reaching forward, I grip her wrists and lower them. I watch her imploringly, desperate for her to talk to me. Her shoulders sag.

“What if I hurt someone?”

“You would never do that.”

This only upsets her more, but instead of welling tears and frowns, her lips pinch in frustration. Pushing to her feet, she attempts to walk away. I’m quick to follow, and I catch her arm before she can make it more than a step.

Wrenching her arm free from me, she takes a step back.“You can’t say that,”she insists.

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve killed people!”Her signs are exaggerated, amplifying the height of her emotions.