Page 19 of In Her Path

Dr. White agreed. “That’s not uncommon with these experiences. The connection can be fragile, especially when you’re just beginning to establish conscious communication.”

“But they didn’t tell me anything useful,” Piper protested. “Just some cryptic message about silence.”

“Sometimes such messages can be clearer in hindsight,” Dr. White observed. “Give yourself time to process what you’ve heard. And now you know how to invite them in, whenever you want to ask for them, whenever they’ve got something to say.”

Piper sank back in her chair, suddenly exhausted. The brief exchange had drained her more than she’d expected, leaving her feeling oddly hollow.

But they had told her something. She remembered the words: murdered by silence.

“I need to call Jenna,” she said, with sudden urgency. “Right away. This might be important.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

The streets on the east side of Trentville were narrower than those in the town center, lined with simple homes that had seen better days. Driving through this neighborhood, Jenna recognized the signs of slow decline: paint peeling from porches, and gardens that had surrendered to weeds.

“Economic realities,” Jake commented. “They’ve hit hard in some parts of Genesius County.”

Jenna was about to reply when her phone rang. She glanced at the display mounted on the dashboard.

“It’s Piper,” she said, surprise coloring her voice. Her twin rarely called during the day—their sisterly check-ins usually happened in the evening, when Jenna had finished her shift and Piper had settled in for the night.

“Can you take it?” Jenna asked Jake. “Put it on speaker.”

Jake picked up her phone, swiped to answer, and placed it in the cup holder between them. “Hey, Piper,” he said. “You’re on speaker. I’m here with Jenna.”

“Hi, Jake!” Piper’s voice filled the car, bright with excitement. “Jenna, I have to tell you something!”

Jenna felt her lips curve into a smile. Piper had been making progress with Dr. White. But this level of enthusiasm was rare.

“What’s going on?” Jenna asked.

“I’m in Dr. White’s office,” Piper said. “And it happened again, right here. The voices came. They talked to me right here.”

“What did they say?” Jenna asked, keeping her voice steady. She was wary of the psychic contacts that had twice drawn her sister to run away from home.

Piper’s excitement was obvious. “They said, ‘He was murdered by silence.’ Just that, clear as day. And then another voice said, ‘There are two kinds of silence. The kind that you choose—that can be lovely. But the kind that’s forced upon you—that kind of silence can kill.’”

Jenna exchanged a glance with Jake, whose expression had turned serious. “Silence,” she repeated. “Did they say who ‘he’ was?”

“No,” Piper said, her voice dropping. “That’s all I got. But I thought of you right away. You’re working on that councilman’s murder, right?”

“Yes. Curtis Paige.” She hesitated, then made a decision. It was time to let Piper in on things. “Piper, what you heard—it could be important. I think it must connect to the case.”

“What do you mean?” Piper asked.

Jenna navigated around a pothole before answering. “Remember when I told you about my dream this morning? Curtis Paige came to me—and he couldn’t talk.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Here’s the thing,” Jenna said. “When Dr. Stark examined Paige’s body, she found that his tongue had been cut out after death.”

The line went quiet for a moment.

“We don’t know why,” Jenna added. “Maybe someone wanted to make sure he couldn’t talk, even in death. Or maybe it symbolizes something …”

“So, the voices were right,” Piper said. “He was murdered by silence.”

“Well, he was murdered by some sharp, pointed object. But silence is definitely a theme here.”