Dead Silence Read Online Free PDF

convinced that Grace’s concern over the weather had stopped her from calling. But Grace doubted her mother would push the issue. Over the years, they’d established a pattern for dealing with the strain between them, which was better ignored than confronted.
    “You’re looking good,” Grace said, and meant it.
    “I’m too fat,” Irene responded, but if she had any weight to lose it wasn’t more than ten or fifteen pounds. And the fact that she dressed up for even the smallest errand provided sufficient proof of her vanity.
    “No, you’re just right.”
    Grace’s smile grew more genuine when she saw her mother brighten at the compliment. Although Irene was only five-two, they had the same oval-shaped face and blue eyes. Grace generally pulled her dark hair into a messy knot at the back of her head and wore little makeup. Her mother went heavy on the mascara and deep-red lipstick, and backcombed her hair into a style vaguely reminiscent of Loretta Lynn.
    “Molly told me you’re seeing someone,” Grace said, eager to discover whether her sister was right.
    Irene waved a dismissive hand. “Not really. She and that guy she brought for Christmas are dating again, though.”
    “Bo’s just a friend, and you know it. But you’re trying to change the subject, and that gives me the impression you’re hiding something.”
    “Who would I be seeing? No one around here has ever liked me,” she said with a self-deprecating chuckle.
    Whether or not that was the case now, it’d been true in the past. When Irene married the Reverend Barker and moved with her three children from neighboring Booneville twenty-two years ago, Grace had been only nine years old. But nine was old enough to understand that the whispers she frequently heard about her mother weren’t particularly flattering.
    Look at her, walkin’ ’round with her nose in the air. I swear I’ve never seen a more uppity woman…. As if we don’t have a dozen ladies right here in Stillwater who would’ve made our good reverend twice the wife…. Why, Irene’s gotta be ten, fifteen years younga than he is. She’s afta his money, that’s what she’s afta.
    The reverend had only a modest living and the farm. But that was still more than Irene and her children had possessed in Booneville. And it was enough to make the people of Stillwater resent them. They’d been outsiders, treated as if her mother had taken something she had no right to.
    Of course it hadn’t helped that the reverend made subtle yet demeaning comments about his new wife at every opportunity—even from the pulpit. Or that the blush of excitement her mother had experienced in the beginning faded fast as Irene came to know her new husband better.
    Grace had always marveled at how loyal this town had been to Barker, that such an evil man could convince so many he was a saint.
    A callused hand closed over her arm, and a low, gruff voice grated in her ear, “Don’t make a sound.” When she whimpered, the man she called Daddy squeezed tighter, using the pressure to warn her of the consequences should she disobey. Madeline, his own daughter, slept in the bed directly across from her. But Grace knew he’d get his revenge if she woke her stepsister—
    “Grace, what’s wrong?” her mother asked.
    The memory shattered. Folding her arms tightly across her body to ward off the chill left in its wake, Grace forced a trembling smile. “Nothing.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “Positive,” she said, but the peace and tranquility she’d enjoyed earlier eluded her now. It felt as if she’d stepped out of the sun into a cold dark cellar. The images and sensations she worked so hard to avoid seemed to bang around inside her head. “I—it’s too hot out here. We should sit on the porch,” she said and started for the house.
    “After thirteen years…I can’t believe you’re back,” her mother said as she followed.
    Grace spoke before she could catch herself. “I can’t believe you never