The Evolution of Silence
The first month in Frank Delaney's townhouse, Rachel learned to be quiet. Not the quiet of sleeping or the quiet of waiting or the quiet of not knowing what to say. A different kind of quiet. The quiet of a room that had never known noise, the quiet of a body that had forgotten how to make sound. Frank left for work at six thirty every morning. He worked at a warehouse in Youngstown where he...
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