PAEDYN NOVA
The Price of Silence
I woke up that morning feeling lighter than I had in days. For once, the air in the pack house didn’t taste like fear. Junie was folding some clothes beside my bed, humming a tune that didn’t sound like the ones maids usually sang. I smiled and threw a pillow at her.
“Must you hum every morning?” I asked.
She laughed. “If I don’t, who will remind you that life isn’t always about frowning and plotting?”
I rolled my eyes. “Who says I frown?”
She gave me a side-eye. “You, my lady, could win an award for best angry face in the whole pack.”
We both laughed. It felt good, really good. The sound of our laughter echoed through the small room like a forgotten melody.
After some moments, she sat beside me and whispered, “You know that guard who helped me car
