Breaking The Silence
“My husband shot himself in our bedroom. When I got home, Emma was standing at the bottom of the stairs, screaming. ”Since that awful day, Laura Brandon’s little girl hasn’t uttered a word. When a psychiatrist suggests that Emma won’t talk because she’s terrified of men, Laura is guilt-ridden. To help Emma, she needs to know what unspeakable secret lies behind her husband’s suicide.Laura thought her family was perfect, but her quest leads her to a shocking truth. For her child’s sake, should her father’s sins be kept silent?Praise for Diane Chamberlain ‘Fans of Jodi Picoult will delight in this finely tuned family drama, with beautifully drawn characters and a string of twists that will keep you guessing right up to the end.' - Stylist‘A marvellously gifted author. Every book she writes is a gem’ - Literary Times’Essential reading for Jodi Picoult fans’ Daily Mail’So full of unexpected twists you'll find yourself wanting to finish it in one sitting. Fans of Jodi Picoult's style will love how Diane Chamberlain writes.’ - Candis
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Praise for Diane Chamberlain
“Chamberlain skilfully…plumbs the nature
of crimes of the heart.”
—Publishers Weekly
“So full of unexpected twists you’ll find yourself wanting
to finish it in one sitting. Fans of Jodi Picoult’s style
will love how Diane Chamberlain writes.”
—Candis
“This complex tale will stick with you forever.”
—Now Magazine
“Emotional, complex and laced with suspense, this
fascinating story is a brilliant read.”
—Closer
“A moving story.”
—Bella
“A fabulous thriller with plenty of surprises.”
—Star
“A brilliantly told thriller.”
—Woman
“An engaging and absorbing story that’ll have
you racing through pages to finish.”
—People’s Friend
“This compelling mystery will have you
on the edge of your seat.”
—Inside Soap
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I’m grateful to Jane Drewry, Liz Hain and Joan Winslow for nurturing this story and for being gentle with me when my plotting went astray.
Thanks to Ann Allman, Barbara Bradford, Alana Glaves, Pat McLaughlin, Priscilla McPherson, Joann Scanlon and Brittany Walls for their caring and careful critiques of outlines and early drafts, and to hot air balloon fanatic Dan Heagy and reference librarian Henry Zoller for helping me bring a dose of reality to my fictitious world.
And a special thank you to my agent, Ginger Barber, and to Amy Moore-Benson and Dianne Moggy of MIRA Books.
1
THE PHONE RANG A FEW MINUTES AFTER ELEVEN ON Christmas night. Laura was at her computer in the study, as usual, but she quickly reached for the receiver. She knew who was calling.
“He’s asking for you,” the nurse said. “I think you’d better hurry.”
“I’ll be right there.”
She ran through the living room, past the darkened Christmas tree and up the stairs to the second floor of the town house. Although she tried to be quiet, the bedroom door squeaked as she opened it, and Ray lifted his head from the pillow. He was never an easy sleeper.
“The hospital called,” she said, slipping off her robe and pulling a pair of jeans from her dresser drawer. “I have to go.”
Ray sat up and switched on his bedside light. “Is he…?” He didn’t finish the sentence as he reached for his glasses on the night table. He looked dazed, blinking against the intrusion of light in the room.
“He’s still alive,” she said. “But I think this is it.” She heard the lack of emotion in her voice as the calm and collected scientist in her took over.
“I’ll come with you,” Ray said, throwing off the covers. “I’ll get Emma up and she and I can wait in—”
“No.” She pulled her sweater over her head, then leaned over to kiss him. “You and Emma stay here. No sense waking her up. Besides, I need to get there quickly.”
“All right.” Ray smoothed his hands over his thinning brown hair. “But call if you change your mind and want us to come.”
He looked like an oversized little boy, sitting on the edge of the bed in his striped pajamas, and Laura felt a quick surge of love for him. “I will,” she said, giving him a hug. “Thanks.”
Outside, the air was still and cold. She drove quickly through the neighborhood, the houses and trees ablaze with colored lights. On the main road through Leesburg, she hit red light after red light, and even though the streets were nearly empty, she stopped dutifully at each of them.
Her father had wanted no heroic measures, and he’d received none. Although Laura agreed philosophically with his decision, her emotions were another matter, and these past few days she’d been hoping for a miracle. She wasn’t ready to lose him. Carl Brandon had been the one consistent person in her life, always there for her. Her relationship with him had not been perfect, but who had a perfect relationship with their father? He’d turned eighty a few months ago, right after the cancer came back. She’d given him a party after hours in the Smithsonian’s Air and Space Museum, turning on the planetarium lights for him. It would be his last party, and she knew there was nothing he would love better than to gaze at the sea of stars above him. He’d nearly ignored the guests in favor of the mechanically created sky.
Only a few cars were parked in the visitors’ lot, and she found a spot close to the hospital entrance. Inside, the lobby was eerily empty and dimly lit. Shivering as she walked through it, she tried to prepare herself for what lay ahead. She would find her father at peace. He was not afraid of dying, and that comforted her. He had an astronomer’s appreciation of his own irrelevance. When your passion was the sky and the stars and the planets, the insignificance of your life was a given.
So, she would hold his hand as he drifted away from her. She would be very strong. Then she would drive home and Ray would comfort her. In the morning, she would tell Emma that Poppa had died. She had already tried to explain to her five-year-old daughter about Poppa’s illness, trying to equate what was happening to him to what had happened to Emma’s guinea pig the year before. But Emma, despite asking dozens of questions, seemed unable to grasp the concept of
