Page 1 of A Silence So Divine

Prologue

Eden - Age 12

The storm is relentless, but so am I.

Raindrops paint lines down my cheeks, collecting in the bow of my lip. The wind is fierce, whipping locks of hair until they cling to my face, only heightening the itch of frustration. As if that wasn’t dreadful enough, it’scold.My teeth chatter, my limbs are numb, and I’m soaked from head to heel. I would feel sorry for myself, but with the treasure I’ve discovered, I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

Cupped in my palms is the most pathetic creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on—not that I’ve seen many, really. I’ve never been this close to any animal, aside from the insects that crawl along my window ledge, or I find beneath stones. The orphaned nestling’s feathers are drenched in water, emphasizing the tiny body and beady eyes. Honestly, it’s quite ugly—not cute like the fuzzy rabbits I’ve dreamed of. Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.

Papa has been calling my name, demanding I come inside lest I catch a cold. He’ll never let me bring the poor thing in the house, so I think hard for a place that might be dry, and safe.

I have the perfect spot.

My knees drag through the mud as I shuffle along the side of the house. Walking would be quicker, but I’m too afraid I’ll lose balance if I stand with my hands full of feathers. I’d never forgive myself if I dropped him.

Papa may never forgivemewhen he sees the state of my clothes.

I don’t know much about birds, but this must be a baby. He’s fragile. Innocent. Perhaps if I save him, he’ll stick around and I can visit him in the garden. I’ll bring him seeds, and he’ll sing me songs.

I smile at that. It would be a blessing to have a friend.

Finally at the edge of the front porch, I reach with one hand to grab the loose wooden panel and prop it open. Papa has never noticed my secret hideaway; it’s the only place that’s really mine.

Now, I get to share it with someone else.

Freezing air sucks through my teeth on a gasp as I’m yanked backward. I land in a heap at my father’s feet, keeping a delicate hold on the bird. The whole backside of my body prickles with the chill of mud. This is my most favorite dress, but I hardly care about the ruination of it. Dread pools in my stomach.

“I know you have heard me calling you.” He has to shout for his voice to rise above the storm.

“I haven’t, Papa! The rain is quite noisy.” Lying is a sin, but I do it easily. I don’t want him to be angry with me, and Papa angers so quickly.

His hand closes around my arm and he pulls me to my feet, eyes narrowing as I hold the tiny secret to my chest.

“What is it? What is in your hands?” He reaches for me, but I step back.

“Please,pleasedon’t be mad! It only needs our help. I found him below the oak tree, calling for his mother! He cannot fly, Papa. I only wish to put him someplace safe, and… and once he’sbigger, maybe he could keep me company. He might come to like me!”

My words are broken up by chattering teeth. I try to smile at my father, an effort to melt his bitter heart. He is a Holy man, after all. We’re all God’s creatures.

We stand in silence as he searches my face for any signs of deception. His chest deflates with a sigh and he holds his hand out. A glimmer of hope has me relinquishing my hold.

“Careful, Papa, he is quite small. You must not hold hi—”

Between one syllable and the next, the bird’s head is twisted and his body is limp. My hopeful grin is replaced with horror and betrayal. The words stuck in my throat cut off my airflow, and I cannot draw in a breath.

I was going to take care of him. Treat him with kindness. He was going to be something just for me. Someonejust for me.

“You must have mercy on the damned, Eden. That is the Lord’s way.” His tone is clipped, as if it’s one of our arithmetic lessons and nothing more. He holds the body away from him like a used tissue, waiting for me to take it back. To discard it.

My fingers shake uncontrollably, but I take the deceased animal from his palm and bring it to my chest. I can’t stop staring at this man that gave me life.

I may be a part of you, but you are not a part of me.

“Get rid of it and meet me in the dining room. Today will make a wonderful teaching moment for you. Bring your Book.”

He walks up the steps, stomping mud off his boots. Reaching the top, he peers back at me. Eyes roving over my body, his top lip curls into a scowl. “I don't want to see a drop of filth on my floors.”

The slam of the front door makes me blink, and I finally look down at my hands. He doesn’t feel any different than it did minutes ago. But it’s gone. A body, with no life to anchor it tothis world. My lungs scream, and I allow a sip of air through my teeth.