Where Silence Gathers by Kelsey Sutton

Author:Kelsey Sutton
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fiction, teen fiction, teen lit, teenlit, ya fiction, ya novel, young adult novel, young adult fiction, young adult, ya, paranormal, emotion, dreams, dreaming, some quiet place
Publisher: Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.
Published: 2014-05-12T16:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

For the next two days, I’m on my best behavior. When all my instincts urge me to go see Andrew, or return to the mines, or hunt down Dr. Stern, or sit outside Nate Foster’s house, I stay where people think I belong. I do it for them. Missy, Saul, Briana, Georgie. Maybe it was seeing my friend’s parents so happy, or telling Revenge that he’s the only choice for me. Ultimately, Nate Foster is the one who’s supposed to suffer the most. So the least I can do is give my loved ones a respite, a few days of peace. Nothing is over, though. It feels like the stillness before a storm, when the sky is yellow and roiling and you know something is coming.

On Monday night I’m lying on the couch, putting on a show of reading a book for school. My aunt went to bed an hour ago, and Saul is on his way home from a tuning, but I still don’t move. Part of me wishes this was real, the tentative surrender. The false contentment. They’re starting to trust me again, I can see it. I want to have these days to remember when everything ends.

“You haven’t turned a page in five minutes.”

He stands across the room, watching me with his dark eyes. As usual, he’s wearing that white T-shirt, and his hair looks casually mussed like he’s just rolled out of bed. But that’s impossible, since they don’t sleep. For the first time I’m envious of something from the other plane: they don’t receive unwanted visits from Dream.

I close the book, marking the spot with my thumb. “I know for an absolute fact that I didn’t summon you, intentionally or otherwise,” I comment. I haven’t been tempted to think of Forgiveness since I saw my father.

“You didn’t.”

I frown. “Then why are you here?”

Oddly, Forgiveness ignores this. I catch him studying our surroundings with interest. The ancient carpet, the worn furniture, the framed photos of our family on the wall next to the kitchen doorway. It occurs to me that he’s never been in the apartment before. I start to repeat the question when he asks, “What are you reading?”

If I didn’t know any better, I would think that he’s trying to change the subject. I appraise him as I answer, “I’m trying to read To Kill a Mockingbird. It’s for a class, and I’m so behind I don’t know why I even bother.” My voice is low, to ensure Missy won’t hear us over the running fan in her room.

He walks along the edge of the room, hands shoved in his pockets. I try not to compare them, but it’s impossible. Where Revenge has always seemed out of place in the mundaneness of my world, Forgiveness … fits. He may be the beautiful one, with his sculpted lips and high cheekbones, but he doesn’t have that restless energy that makes Revenge so otherworldly.

“ … a good story,” Forgiveness says. I blink, realizing that I missed the first part of the sentence.

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