Fern’s Decision is the first book in Fern’s trilogy, the next Sister of Hex to get her own series. Accacia already has her complete trilogy out now, and now it’s Fern’s turn!
Here’s an excerpt:
The first time I heard the singing, I was five years old. It drew me to my parents’ room in the middle of the night. In my own dreamlike state, I remember feeling strangely comforted by the sound, even though it was mournful and full of sadness. For a child born without the ability to hear, it was a gift. One so precious that I didn’t think to be frightened of it. In my childhood innocence, I believed that my fairy godmother had finally granted me my one and only wish.
The wish to hear.
I didn’t understand the words, but the melody called to me, and I obeyed.
When I pushed open the door to my parents’ private sanctuary, only stillness and their slow breaths greeted me. I stood at the end of their bed with my head cocked to the side and waited. Somewhere deep inside I knew the singing would return, despite my intrusion.
And it did.
My little feet padded across the soft carpet to stand by my father’s side. For some inexplicable reason, I knew the singing was for him, that I was a bystander in his own private concert.
Pressing my eyes shut, I slipped my hand into his, allowing the sound to wash over me, my tiny body swaying as the haunting melody wrapped around us both.
Then my father’s hand tightened around my own, and just as the singing reached its crescendo his body shuddered with his last breath.
Even as young as I was, I knew it would be his last but I still climbed onto the bed, refusing to believe such purity could cause such destruction. I wrapped my tiny body around his, trying in vain to keep him alive just by my touch. But death had slayed him with beautiful music and sweet words.
And by morning he was cold.
Ever since that night, my mother has secretly referred to me as the harbinger of death. She thinks I do not know, that I am oblivious to the whispered conversations she has had about me over the years. But I am not who she believes me to be.
Death doesn’t call to me, life does.
It is why I chose to be a midwife. To hold a newborn baby in my arms, to bring life into the world with their bleating cries. That’s the kind of music I wish to hear. That is who I am. Their cries drown out the singing that haunts me still.
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