Page 59 of The House of Quiet

Chapter Fifty-One

Lost in the Forest

When Forest walks out of the study, head aching but clear thanks to River nudging him awake in a dream, he sees Cook and the House Wife rush into Sky’s old room, grab the portable procedure device, and shove it into a bag. But they don’t see him.

“Come on,” the driver calls from the front door. “We have togo.”

“This will help, Mouse,” Cook says. “With this, we can make our own noise. You can still take what you need.”

“I can’t control it, though,” the House Wife says, tilting her head in his direction. She can’t see him, but she can still hear him. He figured that out when Lake went missing. “I’m so tired.”

He nods. He understands.

“That’s fine. That’s fine.” Cook pats the House Wife’s hand, then tugs her out the door. Forest follows them.

“We’re ready,” Beetle calls, checking the straps on the horses. He doesn’t look up. If he did, he’d see Forest standing in the doorway to the house, watching them.

“My gentle little girl. My darling little girl.” Cook urges the House Wife out toward the coach.

“Stop,” Forest says.

They stop. Frozen so completely Cook and the driver can’t even look at each other. Forest walks up to the House Wife and leans down so they’re eye to eye.

“You can see me now,” he whispers, and she blinks, pupils dilating.

“There you are.”

“Mouse,” he says. “Tell me what you want.”

The House Wife smiles. For the first time Forest can see the girl she was, the vibrant, happy child that the procedure hollowed out and destroyed.

“I can still hear them, you know. Every child who passed through me. I don’t want to anymore.

I want quiet. Perfect, pristine quiet, and I never want to hear anything again.

I want to go to sleep at last, and I don’t want to wake up. ”

“That sounds nice,” Forest says. Mouse didn’t ask for any of this. She can’t change what she is now, so he’ll help her the only way he can. “You should do that.”

Cook screams, but the sound is trapped between her locked jaws. Mouse collapses onto the soft, spongy ground. It looks like she’s falling into bed at the end of a long, awful day. Her eyes close and she breathes her last, a smile on her lips.

He turns back to the house. All his kindness was used up on Mouse. He has none left for her parents, who kept the House of Quiet running all these years. Who knowingly fed it child after child, all so they could stay close to the ghost of their own little girl, lost so long ago.

He has one last thing to say to them before he goes in to help Birdie. It’s a simple command, and it’s exactly what they deserve.

“Walk away.”

The driver begins his march. Cook follows, not quite catching up to him. They’re out of sync, unable to touch or comfort each other or look back at their daughter. They walk, away from safety and into the endless peat bog to join all the innocent bodies they helped put there.