Page 1 of The House of Quiet

The dizzy game was Magpie’s one request before Birdie goes.

The room whirls and blurs around them as they spin in circles, hands clasped, until little Magpie can’t hold on anymore. She flies away. Birdie realizes a moment too late that this isn’t going to end well.

Magpie watches with those knowing green eyes as Birdie wipes the blood from her split eyebrow. She’s only six, but she’s the calmest, sweetest child in the world. Birdie loves her more than anything. It feels unimaginably cruel that in order to help Magpie, Birdie has to leave her.

“It’s all right,” Magpie says.

“It’s not,” Birdie answers through her tears. “You’re going to have a scar.”

“Then you’ll always know it’s me, by my scar.”

Birdie laughs, sniffling. “I’ll always know you, my Magpie.”

Magpie’s expression gets somber, and the lip that didn’t so much as tremble as Birdie cleaned the cut begins to wobble. “But you’ll be gone so long. You might forget me.”

“Never. Never ever. I’m only going away now so we can be together forever later. Once you get the procedure, we’ll have a little house. Just you and me.”

“With flowers,” Magpie says, even though flowers don’t grow in Sootcity.

“And books,” Birdie adds, even though neither of them can read.

“And cupboards full of candy,” Magpie finishes, even though she doesn’t like sweet things. Birdie does, though.

Birdie’s counted it out. With their mother and father both working and Birdie going away to serve in a big house, it will take six years for them to earn enough for Magpie’s procedure.

Birdie will be sixteen and Magpie will be twelve then.

Maybe Magpie is right. Maybe Birdie won’t recognize her anymore.

But she’ll still know her. She’ll always know her.

Birdie blows gently on the cut and then holds her baby sister as tightly as she can.

Six years isn’t that long. Six years, and then nothing will ever separate them again.