Novel & Cerita Hush: A Novel

He walked up to the door that led out to the view of the coast, and opened it, his heart froze beneath his chest, and he let out a gasp. Anna also stared in awe as she approached the door. Before her was a coast ridden with bodies, and the edge of the sea was red with blood. Knowing the story of the five whispers, Anna had nothing else to say, except, "They are back. They are back."

Clover was awake, and so was Danise. He sat at the round table, engrossed in the same romance novel he had been reading since the day they arrived at the hotel. She rustled under the blanket as she stared at the water droplets trickling down the casement, signaling the end of the rain. Her throat constricted. She pondered if there'd be a day when her life could be free of storms. Too many things had happened recently—from the scandal to Evelyn becoming Kyle's mother and everything in between. She felt utterly overwhelmed.

“The curator at the Grossman Center Museum.” For a second, silence stretched between them like a tripwire, sharp enough to draw blood. The two women stared at Dick as if he’d just suggested asking a crocodile for swimming lessons. Meanwhile, the bored husky snored near the fireplace, blissfully unaware that the fate of several billion dollars—and a couple of lives—was hanging in the balance. Outside, the wind howled like a hungry wolf, sending brittle leaves skittering across the snow. Somewhere out there, a dark figure lingered at the tree line, melting into the shadows, unseen and very cold.

POV(FIONA), Running to the beach, it was a hiding place for me, a place I let go off my worries, a place I can cry without anyone looking, my secret home, but now it was crowded, filled with a lot of people, I ran back to the Kitchen to go help out with the preparations.

ALANA The silence in the room didn’t feel like peace. It felt like the kind of quiet that came before a war cry, the sound just before the arrow let loose, the moment just before your name is called, and you know your life is about to change. Zach’s eyes flicked toward me like he felt the shift in me before I even opened my mouth. I stood at the window of the safehouse, arms crossed tightly over my chest, not because I was cold, but because if I didn’t hold myself together, I might shatter into too many pieces for anyone to put back together again.

I found it just like she promised and fumbled to open the door. The knob turned, I pushed the door open as it creaked, and I stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind me. For a moment I leaned on the door inwardly reciting a quick prayer and a request for more strength. Though my body wanted to sink to the floor and listen to my hammering heart, I knew I couldn't afford that luxury. Time is already behind me as it is. The cottage was a little more than a single room, the furnishings few and worn. But it was a shelter nonetheless, a peaceful place to hide from everything and everyone.

his lips crashed onto hers, fierce and urgent, silencing every protest she could muster. She struggled, but his grip held her fast, unyielding, desperate. For one suspended heartbeat, she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe. When at last she wrenched herself free, instinct blazed through her veins. Her hand flew, striking his cheek with a sharp, resounding slap that echoed between them.

I curled into a ball and started shivering uncontrollably. 'No. I won’t die here.' With frozen fingers, I started pounding on the door over and over until darkness blurred my vision. Just as I lost consciousness, I felt warmth. Someone had entered. "Zoe!" It was Tasha. She wrapped her coat around me, tears streaming down her face. "Every time you make a single mistake, they throw you in here! These people are monsters! Don’t worry. I’m getting you out of here." She helped me into the car, blasted the heater, and draped another coat over me.

Forgiven. My ghost hovered in that ice-cold courtyard, nearly frozen through. On New Year's Eve, fireworks cracked and boomed outside, painting the night sky in bursts of blinding gold and various colors. From the manor windows, the display was spectacular. But inside, the holiday dinner was a tomb—silent and stagnant. Father sat at the head of the table. Before him were two place settings. One was for Matthew.

he murmurs, “I’ll have to clean up your mess myself.” The wind dies abruptly. The trees go still. Raven stands trembling, staring at the woods as if something inside them is staring back. Emily grips her arm. “Raven, we need to move. Now.” But Raven can’t move. Because deep in the shadows, between the trunks.... a figure steps forward. Hooded. Silent. Watching her. The same figure from her dream. Her breath catches. The figure slowly raises a hand, its finger extending to point directly at her. It remains utterly still and silent, standing among the trees with its unyielding gaze fixed in her direction. Then, carried softly on the wind, comes a single word, her name, “Raven.” The world begin