THE SPACE BETWEEN SILENCE(7)
678 Words
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Elina sank into the couch, eyes locked on the television as Echoes of the Dolphin Song unfolded. Veronica Denzel’s voice carried her into the ocean, where dolphins leapt and whistled, mothers guided calves, and waves became playgrounds. It felt like being let in on a secret.
She nudged the volume higher, trying to blot out Lucca and Nuria’s latest fight. Being only ten months apart, they’d been mistaken for twins all their lives and fought like it was their full-time job.
“That’s my charger!” Nuria snapped, lunging for the cord in Lucca’s hand.
“Oh, please,” Lucca rolled his eyes. “You lose yours every week and then steal mine.”
Elina sighed and turned the sound up again. She wasn’t about to referee; the dolphins were far more interesting.
On-screen, a robotic dolphin glided among the pod, its hidden camera catching every ripple of trust.
“I can’t hear myself think with this thing so loud,” Lucca complained at last, turning toward her.
“Well, I can’t hear the documentary with you two yelling in my ears,” Elina shot back, still glued to the screen.
“Wait—” Nuria paused mid-argument. “Is this the one with the robot spy dolphin?”
Elina nodded, pointing. “See? They don’t even realize it’s fake.”
Lucca leaned closer, skeptical. “Dolphins are smart. They’ll figure it out.”
“Actually,” Elina smirked, “they tried to socialize with it. That’s how much they trust their own kind.”
For once, the room quieted, both siblings watching with her. Elina leaned back, savoring the fragile peace, knowing it wouldn’t last long.
_____
Clara sat on her bed, the glow of her phone screen washing her face pale. She scrolled through her messages again. Nothing. No calls. No texts.
With a sigh, she set the phone down beside her. It had been three days since she last saw Annalise and Monica. Three days of silence. She knew how much the competition meant to them, how long they’d been preparing, but still… would it have hurt to check on her?
The thought buzzed at the back of her mind, impossible to shake. Miranda must had told them she was sick. Maybe they decided she was fine now. Or maybe… they just didn’t care.
Clara shook her head. No. That’s not fair. They’re probably exhausted too.
But the ache in her chest remained.
She reached for her diary, flipping to the back where sketches filled the margins. On a blank page, her pencil traced two faces: one smiling, one somber. Hope and doubt, side by side.
Her gaze drifted back to the phone. After a long moment, she picked it up and began typing:
Hey, I know you must be really busy with training. I just wanted to wish you both the best of luck for the competition. You’ve worked so hard, I know you’ll do great. Just… take care, okay.
She hovered, thumb trembling. Would they even read it? After another long breath, she pressed send. The silence of the room seemed louder than ever.
Clara stared at the screen until her eyes stung, waiting for their replies that never appeared.
The door burst open. Anastasia and Annabelle tumbled in, giggling, Annabelle clutching something behind her back.
“We found something of yours,” Anastasia sing-songed.
Clara frowned. “What is it?”
With a dramatic grin, Annabelle pulled out one of Clara’s old sketches, a crooked prince and princess, drawn back in sixth grade.
Her stomach dropped. “Where did you get that?”
“In one of your old notebooks,” Annabelle laughed. “You used to think you’d marry a prince, huh?”
Clara snatched it away, cheeks burning. “Mind your business.”
The twins ran out shrieking with laughter, leaving Clara clutching the page. She sank back against her pillows, flipping to the new sketch of the two faces. The pencil lines didn’t answer her questions, but at least they kept her hands busy while she waited.
- Writer
