In a dystopian reality where music is everything, the world is ruled by a Council of corrupt dictators. The greatest punishment possible, reserved for only the worst of criminals, is called Silencing. But one Silent proves that, even if he is a outcast, shunned from society, he still has a voice.


11. Chapter 10: Ghost

            “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made you… I mean, I didn’t know he would-” Ghost cut her off there. He could still feel that dull ache inside him. It was a wound he thought had closed long ago. Not healed – never that – but he had thought it sewn shut at least. Now, torn open anew, it filled him with bitter longing.

            “Shade is his own person. He will come to believe.” Ghost wrote. In truth, it was more optimistic than he was. He knew that his brother would never acknowledge him. Not like this. “He’s thought I was dead for years. He needs time.”

            Time heals all wounds. Yeah, right. Ghost had had three full years of time, and still he felt the pain of the Silencing. He would forever, he knew. It was just an added benefit to the punishment.

            Muse turned to him, eyes suddenly bright. “Maybe Maia could speak to him. Or Lena. He wouldn’t hurt them, right?” Ghost saw the tears in her eyes, the bruise appearing across her throat. He wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know Shade anymore. This boy was a stranger to him. Maybe it was better that way.

            Shrugging, Ghost wrote, “He was younger than Maia last time I saw him. I don’t know what he will do.” As if to prove the statement, something heavy thudded into the wall behind them. It sounded like a crate. Ghost was impressed; Shade had looked much too weak to throw much of anything. Thankfully, the door held. What Shade would do if he escaped the storage room, Ghost didn’t know. He might just run – which would be his death – or he might try to kill his ‘captors.’

            “He really thinks you’re dead, doesn’t he? I mean, it just seems strange to me. If I was hurt, Father would still let me see Maia. I know he would.”

            Ghost shook his head. “Your father was an executioner, not an Enforcer. Your father would never sell you to the Council in the first place.” The words were bitter, harsh. Muse’s eyes opened wide in shock. He hadn’t told her that yet – not about his mother or her position.

            “Your own family did this? But that’s… that’s horrible! What kind of family is that?”

            “The only one we had,” was all Ghost wrote.

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