The Silence Review Novels & Stories

Sandino: “Money buys a lot of silence. That’s the real flex.” Inside the penthouse the silence was not bought so much as enforced. Two floors down, Raphaël lay awake longer than he should have, the memory of her weight on his lap and the soft sound of her frustrated hiss replaying against his better judgment. He had made the only choice that kept him employed and breathing. He still whispered the same three words into the dark.

3rd Person. It was silent. The physical distance between Gabbie and Kiel is not even a meter apart but the internal barrier felt like a kilometer long. No one is breaking the silence or even planning to at any moment. They both want to savor the relationship that is at the risk to change with the news that Gabbie is very willing to hide forever but about to spill.

And the most dangerous thought of all: what it might mean if she let him close enough to see the storm she had buried. Her chest tightened with something she could not name. Something she dared, not name. But it stayed with her long into the night as the city storm raged quietly outside. Sophia had always believed silence was her greatest ally. Silence kept her enemies guessing. Silence made her colleagues uneasy. Silence could outlast any accusation, any negotiation, any plea. But now, pacing the atrium at midnight, her heels echoing against the marble, silence betrayed her. Because in the silence, there was only his voice.

I heard some surprised mutters, but no one objected. “As you may know, Clara is mute,” Ronan said. “I will read her statements for all to hear. Jules will confirm that what I have read is what was written.” Jules stood up and gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. “We like to do things fair and proper here,” she explained in a whisper. I glanced at Gideon, but he was staring fixedly at a point in mid air. He hadn’t glanced at me once this whole time. I stared at my notebook. What could I possibly say in his defense? I didn’t understand anything about war or being a prince or the kinds of decisions he made. I knew he hurt the people here, and they were right to be angry. But I had to try.

(POV Amara & Liam) The moment before everything breaks. The moment before everything reveals itself. AMARA When the Silence Isn’t Silent Anymore The night pressed against her apartment windows like a living thing too thick, too watchful, too aware. Amara had always loved silence, but lately, the silence felt unnatural, as though it had edges, as though it was shaped by someone else’s breathing. She sat curled on her couch, sketchbook open but untouched. She’d tried to draw three times tonight, only to tear out the pages because the lines looked wrong shaky, distracted, frightened.

There's something fragile about how quiet the room is. My phone rings. Timothy. I watch the name blink on the screen, and my fingers tap the green button before I can stop myself. His voice comes through the speaker, too high and yet so soft, “I miss you alrea—” I press the red button so fast, my fingers trembling. My father coughs, a sharp sound that makes my blood run cold. Did he hear?

Silent. Staring at her with those dead eyes. More seconds passed. The air in the room felt wrong. Too thick. Too cold. Carmina took a step backward without meaning to. Then another. Her back hit the door. "Killian," she whispered. Nothing. The silence was worse than shouting. Worse than violence. It was the silence before something terrible happens. Carmina's heart was hammering in her chest. Her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold her cane. "Say something," she said.

Pressure. Response. Everything had happened within seconds. But now— Nothing. No alarms. No security teams rushing into position. No automated barriers slamming shut. No warning messages. No drones. No voices. Just silence. A silence so complete it felt deliberate. Engineered. Manufactured. Like the facility itself had decided to stop breathing. Alessandre’s eyes narrowed. Silence was never empty. Not in places like this. Silence meant observation. Silence meant calculation. Silence meant someone was deciding what to do with him.

No one knew when it could reopen. Benjamin approached, wanting to offer some words of comfort, but nothing came. He, who could speak circles around anyone in business, now stood helpless and mute in front of her. Before he could speak, Nissa lifted her phone. Her eyes were dull, expression gray. On the screen was a single sentence. "Did you do this?" Benjamin froze. She suspected him? He could not believe it. A wave of cold ran through his chest, his heart gripped by grief, anger, and emptiness.

I sat in my room as the candles burned lower and I understood that this silence was different from the others he had given me. The other silences were weapons. Deliberate absences designed to make me feel the shape of what I was not being given. This silence felt like something else. Like a man who had seen something he had not planned to see, and had gone somewhere quiet to decide what to do with it. I did not know what that meant. But Mara was warm and still in my chest. I lay in the dark for a long time listening to a silence that, for once, I could not fully read and for once I actually had second thoughts on what I said in the court room.