Page 126 of A Silence So Divine

“It’s safer to have it up,” Veda informs me. “Hair as long as yours, someone will try to grab it.”

I’d never thought of that. I nibble at the inside of my lip, gratitude wobbling my chin.

“Thank you,”I sign into the air. She hums out a “you’re welcome” just as she ties the elastic. With the braid finished, she drapes it across my shoulder. I stare at the roped hair in astonishment. I want to ask her to teach me, but it’s no use.

My lips twitch between a smile and frown.

Her eyes glisten. “You could be her twin,” she tells me, shaking her head in disbelief. “She is so proud of you.”

We stare at one another, the milky gray of the sky making her appear older, more frail. A breeze blows across my cheek like a caress, and the unseasonable chill rises the hair on the back of my neck. Creed places his hand on my knee and gives it a squeeze.

There’s no time to dwell on the bittersweet emotion that swells in my chest, because with a thunderous clap of his hands, Cecil commands everyone’s attention.

With my braid in my fist, I straighten my spine and turn my gaze forward. His eyes meet mine as he scans the faces. He hesitates for only a moment before moving on.

“Here we go,”Creed says beside me.

Yes.

Here we go.

Fifty Two

Creed

All my life, my older brother has been my hero. Even as a child, he had this air of discipline I couldn’t replicate, no matter how hard I tried. And I did try. Our father had the same powerful presence, and he expected his boys to follow in his footsteps.

That was where his disdain for me began. The inability to communicate only added to frustration he already felt, and once he realized that his genetics failed to pass down the Bastien grit, I became his greatest failure.

The physical violence didn’t start until I hit double digits. One day, like a tether frayed, our father gave in to the weak spot that had been wearing away for a decade. He’d invited a group of men over; the same men that came every third Saturday of the month. Like clockwork, they’d arrive with guns and duffel bags. Dad would banish us to our rooms until he came for us hours later, stinking of tobacco, liquor, and too-sweet cologne.

All it took was one lapse of judgment—one burst of adolescent curiosity that had me sneaking from the room. Cecil ordered me not to, told me I was asking for trouble, but I insisted I had to usethe restroom. It was a lie, of course, and I tiptoed straight toward that kitchen.

It didn’t take a fully developed frontal lobe to make out what the exchange was. Drugs of various colors and consistencies were splayed out where I would eat stale cheerios. It scared me enough to backpedal, but I wasn’t able to hear the creaking of the floorboards, the clunking of boots.

My father dragged me by the collar of my shirt back to mine and Cecil’s shared bedroom. His mouth moved furiously—too furiously for me to make out any words—and spittle clung to my cheeks. In true coward fashion, I stood stock-still, offering only wide eyes and parted lips.

And then, so quickly I couldn’t flinch, I flew backwards and an agonizing roar filled my head. I didn’t realize what happened until my father left the room and Cecil crouched in front of me.

Tears streamed down his face even as he scolded me.

“I told you not to go! I told you!”

Now, eleven years later, my brother is every bit the soldier I always knew he was. And still, he chooses to protect me.

“I want to help,”I insist, rising to my feet. Eden reaches for my hand, but I brush her off.

Cecil adjusts the holster on his hip, sliding a pistol into the sleeve.

“You are. Defend the camp. Once we return, we’ll all head to the Sanctuary together.”

My brother has taken it upon himself to instruct a handful of us to stay back. Those he’s enlisted to carry out the counter attack at the Orphanage stand idly by, shifting guns on their shoulders and watching our dispute.

“It’s not fair,”I insist.

Eden stands beside me.“We’ll be back soon,”she says, casting me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

Cecil glances behind his shoulder before stepping closer to the two of us, hiding his signs from prying eyes.