Page 40 of A Silence So Divine

I don’t bother dressing her; I’ve touched her bare body enough for one day. Pulling the blankets back, I lay her carefully to the mattress, exchanging the towel for the comforter. Another throw lays at the foot of the bed, and I unfold it to drape across her bundled form. Her hair is wet, chunks of it coiled on the pillow beneath her head. I frown slightly—she hates when it’s knotted.

I lower to the edge of the bed, using the back of my hand to feel her cheek. Still cool, but not a cause for concern. Purple lips have faded to a pale pink.

“Do you like tea? It might help warm you up, and your throat must be…” Hesitating, I scratch at the stubble on my cheek. “Sore,” I finish lamely.

Eden is back to staring past me and I wear her silence like a cloak.

I’ve seen similar things in my time at the Sanctuary, usually after someone’s endured unimaginable suffering. She’s in a state of shock, but with the dead man collecting flies, there’s too much I need to ask her.

Where did he come from, were there others, why was she alone, what did the man say and do? And lastly, what didshedo?

In my years at the Sanctuary, there’s been talk of the Damned that roam the Earth, and the evil that resides in their soul. Darkness and otherworldly abilities are a common topic, but I never actuallybelievedany of that shit. People are evil, I’ve never doubted that, but I would assign that to the murderers I call colleagues.

Supernatural beings are meant for scary stories told at slumber parties. Not real life.

But I can’t wrap my mind around what I saw beside the pond.

My thoughts snowball, drifting to the dismal attic and then to her coward of a father. One of the only few brave enough to search for him, I was thrilled to stumble upon his lifeless body. A handwritten note had been beside his head, perfect cursive letters pleading:Have mercy on me.

At the time, I thought dear old Gregory had a taste for theatrics, but looking back, things seem much more complicated.

A burst of thunder makes my shoulders tense. Eden remains still.

It’s been over an hour since I removed her from the bath, and I’ve been watching her chest rise and fall since. Creed is probably beside himself, and I need to speak with him.

Hopefully I’m able to dispose of the body before he sees anything. Although, I doubt he’s gonna let this incident go.

Groaning under my breath, I rise to my feet and tuck the blankets into Eden’s sides one final time, nestling her in the warmth. Her eyes are heavy, and I pray that she’s able to get some rest. I’m not sure how she’s still conscious—as conscious as a catatonic person can be, anyway.

“I’ll be back soon. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen,” I speak lowly, hoping for a flicker of understanding. As I suspected, more silence ensues, and I exhale heavily. What if she stays this way? Can that happen?

Without giving myself time to reconsider, I bend and press my mouth to the hair along her forehead. Not quite a kiss, but an embrace to let her know I’m there. Half of me does it selfishly, a reminder that she’s alive. The other half is hoping my affections comfort her in the same way my brother’s does.

Envy isn’t something I’m familiar with, but I’ve never had something like those two share. Someone who loves you as you are. Because theywantto.

I can’t imagine how that must feel.

I find Creed at the kitchen island. A plate of spaghetti sits untouched in front of him, and his cheeks are tearstained. The moment I sit down across from him, more tears well in his eyes.

I raise my hands to tell him that she’s resting, but he beats me to it.

“It’s my fault,”he confesses, a ragged sob escaping through clenched teeth as he attempts to stifle it. My lips tug down.

“Do you know what happened?”I question, confused. Surely if he knew what was happening, he wouldn’t have been inside cooking pasta.

“No,”he signs emphatically.“That’s the problem! I left her out there because I was angry!”

Creed is crying in earnest, burying his face in his hands. Pushing myself up from the table, I walk around until I reach his side. I pry his hands from his face, dipping my head to meet his gaze. He blinks through the tears and stares up at me, eyes shimmering behind moisture.

It isn’t his fault, not really, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t furious that he would leave her out there alone.

“She’s going to be fine, but I need you to tell me what happened. Every detail.”

Taking a moment to regain some composure, Creed wipes his face hastily with his shirtsleeves before relaying the story. My jaw ticks as he explains to me what happened with the fish, and the way it upset Eden so greatly that she compared him to her father. An undeniable low blow that has even me cringing.

Creed’s at the point in the story where he began to start dinner, and I wave my hand flippantly to cut him off.

“Did you see anyone?”