The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue (2020)
by V. E. Schwab
There are a hundred kinds of silence. There's the thick silence of places long sealed shut, and the muffled silence of ears stoppered up. The empty silence of the dead, and the heavy silence of dying. There is the hollow silence of a man who has stopped praying, and the airy silence of an empty synagogue, and the held-breath silence of someone hiding from themselves. There is the awkward silence that fills the space between people who don't know what to say. And the taut silence that falls over those who do, but don't know where or how to start. Henry doesn't know what kind of silence this is, but it is killing him.🏁
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There are a hundred kinds of silence. There's the thick silence of places long sealed shut, and the muffled silence of ears stoppered up. The empty silence of the dead, and the heavy silence of dying. There is the hollow silence of a man who has stopped praying, and the airy silence of an empty synagogue, and the held-breath silence of someone hiding from themselves. There is the awkward silence that fills the space between people who don't know what to say. And the taut silence that falls over those who do, but don't know where or how to start. Henry doesn't know what kind of silence this is, but it is killing him.🏁