Frowning, Amelia asked, her voice muffled against his jacket, “For what?”
“I failed her. I couldn’t save her. I’m so sorry.”
Amelia pulled back enough to look him in the eyes, those tormented, ice-blue eyes. “Failed who?”
Now he released her, not able to meet her confused gaze again. “Your little sister. Snow. I failed her. I tried so hard to bring her home to you. I just…”
When he trailed off, turning back to Silver City and continuing his search for objects unknown, Amelia asked, “You just what?”
“It’s so quiet,” he answered, dropping to his knees in an area she assumed was a forest. Trees were crushed beneath his weight, but he didn’t notice as his hands went to his head. “It’s too quiet. Snow’s voice … She was always here with me. Now she’s gone. It’s so quiet. I can’t … It’s too quiet. Nothing makes sense.”
With that, Amelia agreed. It didn’t make sense. Silver City, Finley’s murder, this imaginary girl who apparently was also her little sister. She wanted her old life back, where she no longer mourned her friend’s death and loved a man who was as charming as he was tough. There was no going back to that life now. All she could do was help him find his way back to his own.
“It … it wasn’t your fault. It’s okay … Finn.” She had to get him out of his city, away from a fake world filled with fake people, give him a return to real life. Taking his arm, she attempted to gently steer him away. “We’ll survive this somehow. We have to accept it and move on. It’s … it’s what she would want.”
“No.” He shook his head and yanked his arm out of her grasp. “I won’t accept it. Charlie said she wasn’t gone. We just have to find her.” Again his hands pressed over his ears, closing out the world around him. “We have to listen. If I can hear her again, we can find her. I have to hear her.”
The anguished words pricked at her heart and she wanted desperately to take his hands from his head, stop them from tugging at his hair, but knew her efforts would be in vain. He was suffering the worst kind of hurt—the knowledge that after all his hoping, praying, dreaming, trying, after giving Snow a brand-new perfect life, he still couldn’t save the girl who held his heart. There were no words to make this better. No medicines, no doctors.
She had but one offering to give the hurting boy.
With a hard swallow and desolate sigh, Amelia resigned herself to what she had to do. She reached into her pocket while stepping over the cobblestone road to where he was crouched by the miniature cemetery. Kneeling at his side, one arm around his shoulder, Amelia held her hand out in front of her. Caught in his grief, he didn’t notice.
“Finn,” she whispered, waiting until he looked at her, then followed her eyes down to her hand.
His breath left him, the sound a mix of shock, disbelief, and joy. With trembling fingers, Finn took the figure from her palm, cradling it in his own. “Snow. But…” He looked up at Amelia with a small shake of his head. “Charlie said she—”
“Charlie was wrong.”
Gingerly, as though holding a newborn child, Finn straightened, then picked his way across Silver City to a small smattering of houses. His footsteps were meticulously placed. Amelia saw the deliberate footings that allowed him to travel his city without destroying his creations, paths made to blend in with each street and hill of the natural land.
Finn moved to the largest house in a white-picket neighborhood. It was a cozy home with white walls, a long driveway, and a wide backyard decorated in an array of tiny tables and chairs perfect for large family and friend gatherings. By one of those tables sat two paperclip parents side by side, across from them a wooden black-haired girl, the fourth chair empty.
A smile broke out on Finn’s tired face as he placed the figure in that empty chair. His hand lingered on the girl’s head, fingers trembling in the aftershock of finally getting her back.
“You’re home, Snow,” he whispered in a tone so relieved it brought fresh tears to Amelia’s eyes. “Just like I promised.”
There was a shift in him then, one even Amelia could see, and she knew without him saying a word that his world was no longer a quiet one.
She lost all sense of time as she watched him, only her eyes tracing his path through the town as he moved people and vehicles around, building entire days in just minutes. A party at a house along the outskirts of town, a black Mustang speeding along the street, an ambulance bringing a woman to the hospital, a showdown at the bright-green trailer. And then, a reunion with the golden-haired girl and her family, a wood-carved boy with matching blue eyes joining them for a meal. Occasionally his lips would move as he mumbled to himself, other times he was completely silent while listening to a voice inside his head only he could hear.
Snow had returned to Finn.
It comforted Amelia to know he had found his peace. Even though to her it seemed he was simply playing with toys, beautiful and unique but toys nonetheless, it was clear what world he wanted, needed, to live in. And who was she to rip him out of it?
Forcing herself to look away, Amelia retreated out of Silver City, her eyes welling with unshed tears, cheeks stained with those already fallen. Finn didn’t detect her exit, consumed with a conversation in his mind as he moved people around his city of a restructured earth. Only when she reached the patio did she realize Charles was still watching from the kitchen window. He gave her a small nod before turning away, leaving Finn to his world, telling her to do the same.
“Finntastic.” Behind her, Finn chuckled, shaking his head to himself, the wide grin on his face purer than she’d ever seen before. “Only you, Snow.”
With a final look back, Amelia let Finn’s deep voice fill her one last time. She couldn’t help but smile at how happy he was, no longer tormented, no longer at war with the silence. Part of her wondered if he’d ever come back to her, in any way. Another part acknowledged that Tommy was gone, and had been since the day his sister left him alone.
“Take care of him, Snow,” Amelia whispered, tear-coated brown eyes lifting to the sky for only a moment as she remembered her friends as they used to be, who they could have been. She didn’t need to understand. She only needed to accept.
And so she said her silent good-bye, leaving the boy named Finn to the story he’d created, taking with her the chaos of her own cruel world.
2015 HAS BEEN a trying year, writing often taking a backseat to focus on important home and personal matters. But, through it all, I have had an amazing network of friends, family, and colleagues there to be my shoulders to lean against. The Silent Sounds of Chaos was a labor of love, and many people were part of the journey.
First and foremost, thank you to my husband for never giving up on me, putting up with my long hours at the computer, and indulging me in my Dorito addiction. But, also, for not being afraid to challenge me, particularly with The Silent Sounds of Chaos. Your first words upon hearing the original ending to the book were, “Then what the hell is the point of even writing the book?”—and that reaction and subsequent discussion inspired me to rework the novel into something far more meaningful.
For my family, who has shown so much love and support in all aspects of my life this year. I am blessed with amazing parents, grandparents, brother, aunts, uncles, everyone, who will drop everything if it means being there for one another. Thank you for all the help, pep talks, and inspiration.
For Renee Fountain and Gandolfo Helin and Fountain Literary Management, thank you for taking a chance on a relatively unknown author and believing in me for my writing. I have loved working with you and look forward to everything we can accomplish together.
For my Thunderdome girls—you know who you are. You have no idea how much it means to have your support, and a place to talk about all the ups and downs of life. Y’all are the best! And a special shoutout to Go for giving me Duane/DU’s name.
For my beta readers—Heather Lyons, Kristi Strong, Mary Hutchings, Emily Cyr, and Cindy, my momma. You guys are awesome! Tha
nk you for your honest feedback and your excitement in reading the early draft of The Silent Sounds of Chaos. I loved having you part of the writing process.
For my brilliant editor, Juli Valenti. Thank you for not only being an amazing editor, but also a good friend whose unwavering excitement and support inspire me every day. I’m so happy our paths crossed in Orlando.
And, finally, for my readers—thank you for continuing to read and support my novels. I always hope to entertain with each and every book, and I sincerely hope The Silent Sounds of Chaos does not disappoint!
KRISTINA CIRCELLI IS the author of several fiction novels, including The Helping Hands series and The Whisper Legacy.
Her latest series, The Whisper Legacy, features Beyond the Western Sun. This book is what all fantasy adventures must strive to be: a complex, intricate examination of human emotion set within the context of worlds known only in our imagination. Melding fantasy and legend in an epic quest, this series signals the arrival of Kristina Circelli as a master storyteller and an important voice in Native American literature.
A descendent of the Cherokee nation and niece of a Cherokee elder, Circelli holds both a Bachelor of Arts and Master of Arts in English from the University of North Florida, where she also teaches creative writing.
To find out more about Kristina and her books visit:
Website
http://www.kristinacircelli.com/
Blog
http://anawfullybigadventure-kc.blogspot.com/
Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKristinaCircelli/
Twitter
https://twitter.com/KCircelli
OTHER BOOKS BY KRISTINA CIRCELLI
The Whisper Legacy:
Beyond the Western Sun
Walk the Red Road
Into the Shadow Realm
The Helping Hands Series:
The Helping Hands
Shadows in the Night
The Iron Fist: Legacy of the Helping Hands
Abandon
Standalone Novels:
The Sour Orange Derby
The Never
Fade into the Woodwork
A Single Swim
Damsel Not
Fragile Creatures
Short Stories:
Dungeon
Table of Contents
Title Page
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Acknowledgements
About the Author
The Silent Sounds of Chaos Page 19