Page 39 of Juliet's Echo

Tears began to well. My breathing labored. But I refused — absolutely refused — to let either of them walk away without hearing from me. One for being a predator. The other for his timing. The former first.

But when I went to speak, nothing came.

Not a sound. Not a syllable. I knew how to speak — I had always known how — but the knowledge and the ability had severed from each other completely. Selective mutism. I hadn't had an episode since I was a little girl and it chose right now, inthe middle of Sunday's, in front of Psalm Mitchel and a man I now wanted my brothers to murder, to return.

Panic arrived before I could prepare for it.

My eyes began moving at a speed I couldn't control, darting across the room, across faces, searching for something to anchor me. The tears I'd been holding back broke free and tracked down my face in steady streams. I felt the vibration of Psalm's voice against the air but heard nothing. Not a single word. Nazir's mouth was still moving — I could see that — but my God, there was nothing. Silence where sound used to be. My hearing had collapsed entirely and taken my voice with it.

The guests around us began rising from their seats. A commotion. I could feel the shift in the room's energy even if I couldn't hear it.

I signed.Echo.Hands shaking, I signed again.Echo.Desperate now, both hands, full body —ECHO.Nobody turned. Nobody saw. The signs dissolved into the noise of a room full of people focused on the spectacle in front of them and not the girl at the center of it coming apart at the seams.

Nobody heard me.

Nobody heard me at all.

Survival instincts kicked in and I grabbed my phone to text my brother — but the moment I opened the app I froze at the sight in front of me. Psalm connected with Nazir's jaw and blood flew from his mouth like paint splatter. Nazir, like an enraged animal, launched the dining table out of his path and charged — landing a blow of his own. Psalm, unbothered by the hit, delivered two calculated strikes to Nazir's torso that looked like something cracked. Nazir buckled to one knee. Before his body could fully meet the floor Psalm scooped him up and slammed him with a force so decisive the chandeliers trembled.

My stomach turned and my vision blurred. I was about to join Nazir on the floor. My eyes fell shut — but before I could go down, arms came underneath me, scooping me up bridal style.

My babysitter? No. This person felt familiar. Echo? No — the energy was protective but not mature enough, if that made any sense. Mega.

I forced my eyes open just enough to confirm it and his expression alone settled something in my chest.

"I got you," he said. I read his lips.

One arm under my knees, one at my back, he moved me clear of the wreckage and toward the exit.

"I'm okay," I signed.

As Mega carried me I glanced back at the chaos, and Psalm still had the upper hand. Either this fight was moving at an impossible speed or Sunday had given her entire security team the night off. Why was this still going?

Then I saw him. One of Nazir's crew — I recognized him from Flip'd — coming up behind Psalm with a wine bottle raised. It connected with the back of Psalm's head. He staggered, caught the table before he fell, and brought his hand slowly to the back of his skull. Blood. A lot of it, trailing dark and steady down the back of his neck.

My voice was still gone. So, I used everything else I had.

I grabbed Mega's shirt with both fists and pulled — hard. He kept moving. I pulled again, twisting the fabric, yanking with the full weight of my body leaning backward. Nothing. I kicked my legs, sharp and deliberate, targeting his forearm. He adjusted his grip and walked faster. I slammed both palms flat against his chest repeatedly, frantic, urgent —stop, stop, stop— but my hands against his body registered as nothing more than panic he was already trying to move me away from. I looked back wildly, eyes desperate, and signed with one free hand —go back, go back— but his eyes were forward and the exit was getting closerand Psalm was still down and still bleeding and the coward who hit him was lifting what remained of that bottle again, aiming it directly at Psalm's face.

Psalm was disoriented. He didn't see it coming.

Something split open in my chest — less than anger, more powerful than fear — and before my brain could catch up to what my body was doing, sound came crashing back all at once like a dam giving way.

"Help him!" I screamed.

Mega stopped and looked at me.

"Now, please!" I begged.

He set me down — gentle but quick. And like that, Mega moved. He delivered one blow to the coward's face that sent him crashing to the floor. Nazir, having recovered enough to continue to brawl, moved toward Mega — but Psalm intercepted. Two people more associated than friends, operating in the same language without discussion. Whatever Nazir and his homeboy had left to offer, it would be their last attempt.

Sunday's went completely still.

Psalm straightened. Reached back and touched his neck, then checked his fingers. The blood was still coming at an alarming rate. He rolled his neck slowly, turned, and found Mega. The two of them held each other's gaze for a moment. Fists connected. Words were exchanged — too far for me to hear or read. But their body language said everything. All was as well as it could be.

So, I did what any frightened, embarrassed, naive, sheltered girl would do.

I ran.