Page 3 of Sweet Silver Bells

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The marble tile gleamed. The ceiling stretched twenty feet above her head. It looked like a place built for royalty.

But Olivia didn’t feel royal. She felt ashamed.

"Witch," her dance partner snapped again. His finger pointed to her chest. "The stories are true."

Others gathered around him. They looked like him. Spoke like him. Snickered like him. Their laughter cut through her skin.

"You want me to sing?" Olivia whispered.

Rumors had followed her since she was a baby. Babbling in melodies and making flowers bloom. They would follow her until she died.

The shame twisted into anger. Then resentment came.

They would never accept you. Not this town. Not even if the rumor sounded absurd.

It didn’t matter if it was true. It was silly.

You don’t believe in silly little stories even if your heart refuses to forget them.

"Olivia, no," her mother said, stepping behind her.

But she couldn’t see Olivia's heartbreak. She couldn’t feel the anguish rising in her chest. Olivia looked around, searching for something—anything to hold on to. But there was only staring. Boys laughed, and girls her age whispered behind fans and purses.

The Christmas tree stood tall. Sixteen feet of pine filled half the room with the faint scent of sap. It had been chopped down and dressed in ornaments, meant to be looked at. It was not meant to be heard or understood.

How like her it was.

How unjust.

Olivia opened her mouth.

"You wanted me to sing," she whispered. No one heard those words.

But the next sounds from her rose-stained lips weren’t heard either.

They were felt.

Cries of horror burst from the crowd as Olivia began to sing.

"Hark, how the bells?—"

The dirt beneath the manor was alive. Every root and green thing answered her voice. A crack split the marble tile.

"—sweet silver bells?—"

Her voice rose, gathered volume, strength, and power.

The crack widened, splintering across the floor. The Christmas tree responded. Its trunk stretched downward, burrowing through the stone, reconnecting with the earth.

Olivia drew in a deep breath as if she were the tree. It felt as if she were breathing for the first time and had been brought back from an unjust death.

She smiled.

Screams followed.

"Olivia, stop this," her mother pleaded in her ear.

"—all seem to say, throw cares away,"Olivia continued singing.