Page 5 of Once Silenced

“Then let’s go fix it,” Riley said, rising from the edge of the bed.She extended a hand to Jilly, an anchor to pull her back into the fold.

As they entered the room, April looked up at them, the hurt etched into her features tempered now by a glimmer of hope.

“I’m sorry,” Jilly’s voice barely rose above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of earnest contrition.“I didn’t mean what I said.I just...I’m going to miss you.”

April, her hazel eyes brimming with tears that mirrored Jilly’s, softened at her sister’s words.She extended her arms, drawing Jilly into an embrace that spoke volumes of their bond.

“You goof,” April managed through a choked laugh, holding her sister tight.“I’m going to miss you too.But I’ll visit all the time, I promise.You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

The act of reconciliation seemed to breathe new life into the celebration, and as they found their way back to the table, Gabriela emerged from the kitchen, the matriarch bearing a tres leches cake that looked like it belonged on the cover of a gourmet magazine.Seventeen candles danced atop the creamy frosting, their flames casting a warm glow on the faces gathered around.

“Las Mañanitas” filled the room, each voice joining in an imperfect but heartfelt rendition of the traditional birthday song.As they shared the cake, April unwrapped gifts.

“For all your stories,” Riley said, as April unwrapped a leather-bound journal, its cover embossed with intricate designs—blank pages inside for a new chapter in her daughter’s life, one she would write herself.The pens wrapped with it were sleek and weighty, promising the smooth flow of ink and thoughts.

“Mom, it’s perfect,” April beamed, brushing her fingers over the journal like she was touching a precious artifact.

Bill’s gift was a new laptop, an emblem of modern potential.“And this is to make sure those stories reach the world,” he chuckled, his affection for the girls evident.

“Thank you, Bill!”April’s gratitude expressed her excitement for the future.

Then Jilly’s turn came.Hers was gift a scrapbook that held their shared life within its pages.As April flipped through it, laughter and tears mingled

“Jilly, this is amazing,” April whispered, tracing the outline of a photo from a beach trip, the sun setting behind them.Jilly shrugged, but her pride was obvious, her tough exterior melting away.

Gabriela’s gift was last, a handknitted blanket rich with the colors of her homeland.“Para que siempre tengas un pedazo de casa contigo—so you’ll always have a piece of home with you.”

“Gracias, Gabriela,” April replied, her Spanish accented but earnest.

As the evening continued, the mood lightened further, laughter and chatter replacing the earlier discord.Riley allowed herself to sink into the domestic warmth, the comfort of having her family around her.It was these moments, she realized, that fortified her for the battles she faced beyond these walls.

Later, she and Bill retreated to the back porch.The night was heavy with the scent of rain, a whisper of the storm that had been brewing.She nestled into the cushioned wicker chair beside him, accepting the glass of wine he offered.Its ruby red contents glimmered in the soft glow of the porch light.

“You handled that beautifully,” Bill said, his voice warm.He watched her over the rim of his own glass, eyes glinting with admiration and something more profound—a shared understanding of life’s complexities.“Both girls are lucky to have you as their mother.”

Riley took a sip of her wine, feeling the tartness swirl around her tongue.She leaned into him, her body instinctively seeking the reassurance of his solid frame.

“And they’re lucky to have you as their stepfather,” she replied, her voice laden with gratitude.“I don’t know how I’d manage all this without you.”

Bill let out a soft chuckle, a sound that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against her cheek.He set his wine glass on the railing, turning to face her fully, seriousness settling over his features.

“Well, I’m grateful for the second chance at family life.It’s...it’s everything I could have hoped for.”

The words hung between them, resonating with unspoken truths and shared experiences.Riley knew all too well the depths of loss that had shaped Bill, just as her own past traumas clung to her like the damp air preceding a storm.Together, they had found something neither had anticipated: a feeling of wholeness amid the fragments of their lives.

In the dimming light, the first faint peals of distant thunder whispered promises of a downpour.Riley felt an odd shiver, sensing the inevitable approach of change, not only in the weather but within the walls of the home.As the sky rumbled again, louder this time, heralding the tempest’s arrival, she had a pang of foreboding regarding dangers that could be lurking in the calm before the storm.Yet here, now, with Bill’s hand finding hers in the darkening evening, she dared to hope for continued peace.

They sat together, silent companionship enveloping them as the first fat drops of rain began to fall on the porch roof, punctuating the stillness with their irregular rhythm.Her grip on the wine glass tightened, the fragile stem quivering slightly between her fingers.

“Looks like the storm is here,” Bill murmured, his voice low.

“Yes,” Riley agreed, her thoughts drifting to unknowns ahead, both personal and professional.

Then, with the sudden clarity of lightning illuminating the dark, the shrill ring of her phone cut through the tranquil evening.Her pulse quickened, a conditioned response to the intrusion, and she fumbled with the device, answering it with a swift motion.

She reached for the device, her heart rate increasing even before she saw the name flashing on the screen—Tracy Bingham.Tracy was an old friend from childhood, who still lived in the little mountain town of Slippery Rock, where Jenna had lived as a child and a teenager.

“Riley?”Tracy’s voice was taut, the kind of strained tone that triggered alarm bells.“I’m sorry to call so late, but I have some bad news.Do you remember Mrs.Whitfield, our high school algebra teacher?”

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